Harry Potter and the Digital Monsters
by x-eleven
Summary: What happens when the Wizarding World meets the Digital World? Let's see... I'm not really satisfied with how this turned out. Too many plot holes, too much dependence on knowing the original stories, so I decided on a re-write.
1. Digimon in Little Whinging

**1) Digimon in Little Whinging**

Jadin Weston and his companion were returning from the convenience store down Wisteria Walk on an errand for his father. It was also a good time for Jadin's partner digimon to be out with him on a sultry late summer evening as the last of the twilight was disappearing. That way, less chance of being seen, less chance Jadin would need to come up with a plausible explanation.

They had arrived here in Little Whinging just two days ago. He and his father by British Air, his partner via the Digital World. Jadin would call this place home for at least the next three years, as his father's promotion also involved a transfer to London.

As they arrived at the alley which ran between Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent:

"What the...", Jadin started. "Is that a digital field?"

"I don't know", his digimon companion answered. "Not like any I'm familiar with".

Whatever this zone of inexplicable darkness was, it looked nothing like any other digital field he'd ever seen. These looked like fog banks, and were glaringly bright as you entered. This was the exact opposite. Yet, what else could it possibly be? Digimon _were_ transiting into the Material World.

He pulled out his digivice, and tried running an ident. The digivice remained stuck on "seek".

"Nothing", he said, perplexed. "I'm not getting anything on this digimon".

"Then we'll have to do this the old fashioned way", Jadin's companion announced. "We can't let it get out, especially if it's a dark species".

"I hate this", Jadin complained as he followed his companion into the darkness that had claimed the alley and surrounding area. He definitely didn't like going up against some unknown opponent blind.

The zone of darkness looked as though it had swallowed every photon, as the street lights were no longer visible, all the normal night sounds banished. It was also very, unnervingly, cold. Also, unlike every other digital field, he was inexplicably struck with feelings of sadness and despair.

"There's someone here", his companion pointed out. It looked to be a couple of boys Jadin's age. One was standing, the other on the ground, who was being accosted by one of the two unknown digimon.

"Expecto patronum!", the one called out with a desperate sound of voice while waving a stick. Jadin had no idea what he thought he was doing.

"You there!", Jadin called out.

"Get out of here!", Harry Potter called back. It was bad enough, under attack with his muggle step-brother/cousin; he didn't need more muggles getting in the way. It was hard enough, trying to concentrate, block out the depression and despair so he could summon his Patronus.

The new arrival didn't hear, or chose to ignore, his warning. Was this another magician? He didn't pull out a wand, but rather something else, something muggle. He was searching for something with the other hand. He pulled out what looked like a credit card.

"Impmon!", he called to his smaller companion.

"Let's do this!"

"Super Evolution Plug-in S!". He swiped the card through the bit of muggle tech.

Harry watched, unbelieving, as a strange golden light enveloped the smaller figure. Now he could see more clearly. The stranger's companion reminded Harry of a house elf. Then the smaller figure disappeared from view, hidden inside an oblong spheroid that crackled with electricity.

_Impmon evolve! …_

… **KYUUBIMON_Ag!**

Harry stood, slack jawed, as the spheroid (egg?) burst. He had never seen a transfiguration that looked like this at Hogwart's – or anywhere else.

Where there had been a small elven figure, there now stood a fox the size of a draft horse. Except that this fox had nine tails, and the tips of each tail, and all four feet, blazed with red-orange foxfire that didn't even singe so much as one hair.

The fox lowered its head, concentrated a moment, as it spread its tails like a peacock. The flames at the tips of the tails took on a new form.

"Demon spirit fireballs!", it flicked its tails, sending the fireballs into the dementors, driving both of them back.

Next, the fox ran _at_ the dementors. No one – _no__thing_ – ever ran to dementors. These were the most horrifying beings in existence. Harry had already gotten a taste of the Dementor's Kiss, and he never wanted a replay. The Kiss stole the very soul of its victims, leaving them little more than living shells with no emotions, no initiative, just a semblance of life. It was worse than death, and greatly feared. This is why the dementors were enlisted as guards of the wizarding prison: Azkaban. Why the maximum security facility had very few escapes, the one rare success being that of his godfather: Sirius Black.

The fox gave a mighty leap.

"Foxfire Dragon!"

The fox tucked its head and tails, and began spinning, head over heels, faster and faster, until it dissolved into a uniform mass of foxfire. As it reached the dementors, a dragon-like head appeared with a loud roar. The two dementors disappeared in a flash of foxfire.

"_Noway!_", Harry called out. Dementors were immortal. They couldn't be killed, as the best you could hope to do if confronted by dementors was to drive them off with a Patronus. This being a difficult charm to master, and Harry had just learned it, though he could hardly claim complete mastery, your only alternative was to escape and hope they didn't come after you. Yet, he had just seen these two destroyed. The late summer warmth and humidity returned.

The fox, back to "normal", landed on its feet before its companion. Harry searched his memory, yeah, he'd seen this new kid once or twice before. New faces stood out in Little Whinging. By the light of the street lamp just outside the alleyway, Harry could now see that the fox was silvery-violet and white. Black and white yin-yang symbols decorated his forehead, flanks and shoulders. He wore a fashion accessory: a heavy woolen rope with alternating white and green spirals, tied into a large bow, the ends of the rope terminated by large brass balls, and five pairs of crystals just below the neck.

"You OK?", the fox's companion called out.

Harry didn't get a chance to reply.

"Harry! Harry!", it was Mrs. Figg who was running down the alley. "No, keep your wand out", she called back as she'd noticed his trying to hide it from her. "If more of them come... _My word!"_

More questions for Harry: how did Mrs. Figg know? Why did she come? How much had she seen?

"All of you should leave immediately in case more try to materialize!", the new youth advised.

"What... who... _are_ you?", Mrs. Figg asked.

"I was gonna say the same to you...", Harry replied as he went to check on his step brother, who was just barely conscious.

"Dudley! Dudley!", he called out, as he tried to rouse the semiconscious boy.

"Whudjew do to me?", Dudley slurred.

"It wasn't me..."

"What could _any_ of you do to protect yourselves from those digimon?!", Jadin demanded. This was a motley crew indeed: an idiot youth who thought he could defeat digimon with a stick, an unconscious fat boy, and an old woman.

"They weren't digimon", Mrs. Figg, Harry and Kyuubimon answered back, almost in chorus.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?!", Jadin demanded. "I _never _saw _anything_ that looked like that on this side of the Frontier!"

"Jadin", the fox began. So this was his companion's name. "They weren't from the Digital World... They were _Material World_ beings. I came into contact with them and there's no doubt about it. They didn't leave behind any data".

"They were dementors...", Harry began to explain.

"Harry! There are some things best left unsaid", Arabella reprimanded. She was beginning to suspect. "Muggles aren't supposed to know...", as she glanced in Jadin's direction.

"And what about you?", Harry shot back at her.

So far as he knew, Mrs. Figg was just another neighbor who lived a few houses down from his aunt and uncle, and step parents. It seemed Mrs. Figg wasn't all there. An elderly lady who'd out-lived the rest of her family, whose only companion was her cat. Harry was just about the only one who ever stopped by for a visit, to talk, to see how she was doing, to escape the Dursley's. Mrs. Figg wasn't exactly a bundle of fun, but who else did she have? So far as Harry could tell, she had no other visitors, she didn't get out very much.

"I'm a squib", she began. "Albus sent me here to look out for you. When I get my hands on that irresponsible 'Dung... he was supposed to be protecting you, but he took off just when he was needed most. Why Albus ever sent him..."

"What the hell are all of you talking about?", Jadin demanded.

"Not now", Harry called back. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. True, Jadin and his creature had saved them. This Jadin also was undeniably a muggle. A muggle who had seen what he was not supposed to see. A muggle with a strange creature that looked very much magical, though Harry had never heard of digimon, had never seen any magical beings who looked like Impmon and what he transfigured into. Nor did he know of any magical creatures who could transform themselves so thoroughly. An animagus could turn into a fox, but it would be a regular fox, unrecognizable to all but a fellow magician, and then only if he were looking for the right signs.

It was for that reason that all animagi were required to enter their names into the Ministry's special registry. Failure to do so would result in a stay at Azkaban.

"Dudley..."

"Would you mind, Kyuubimon?", Jadin asked.

"Not at all".

So this is the infamous Dudley Dursley, Jadin asked himself as he and Harry struggled to hoist his bulk onto Kyuubimon's back. Yeah, he'd heard about "Big D", and his dubious associates already. Not entirely unexpected, as news travels fast in a place like Little Whinging.

"Where to?", Kyuubimon asked.

"Four Privet Drive", Harry replied, as he led the way.

"Back there, I just wanted to say 'Thanks' for helping", Harry said.

"Yes, thank you so very much", Arabella agreed. "I don't know what I'd do without you".

"Just part of being a Mentor, and you're quite welcome. We're just thankful we happened along when we did".

"Who... are you?!", Harry asked once again.

"Jadin Weston, and my digimon partner...", he introduced himself.

"Kyuubimon", the fox introduced himself.

"Harry. Harry Potter. I'm glad you arrived when you did... whoever you are?"

"Uhhhhh...", Dudley moaned.

Jadin was grateful that it was past nine, that this town rolled up the sidewalks not long after sundown, and that it was unlikely they'd be spotted. They all had loads of unasked questions. However, now wouldn't be a good time to ask. Getting Dudley back home, getting Harry back under the protection of the wards, these were the top priorities.

"Here, let me help", Jadin offered, as Harry and Jadin pulled Dudley from Kyuubimon's back. Between them, they got Dudley to the front door.

"Best be getting out of sight", Harry advised. "I can take it from here".

"I need a word with both of you", Mrs. Figg told Jadin. Crisis over, Kyuubimon de-digivolved back to his Rookie form: Impmon.

Jadin might have declined, but now he could not. This situation he'd stumbled into was beginning to look less and less like a routine incursion of another Wild One. He followed her to her house at number 11.

"Who... what... are you?", she asked.

"I am a digimon; my name is Impmon". The name was nothing like that of a house elf. Their owners typically gave their house elves silly diminutives as names that reflected the subservient nature of the relationship. A name like "Impmon" would be unthinkable.  
>"I never heard of digimon..."<p>

For the first time, she got a good look at Impmon. He stood about a little over half of Jadin's height, and that made him tall for a house elf. It was obvious that he could not possibly be a house elf, as she at first suspected.

No house elf was covered in short, purple fur except for the white facial fur. No house elf had a long tail with an arrowhead like tip. Nor did they have three fingers and toes. Their noses tended to be long, thick, or otherwise misshapen. Not small, black, and moist.

His fashion accessories consisted of red, three fingered gauntlets, a matching red bandanna loosely knotted around his neck, and a yellow smiley badge sporting an evil leer. Otherwise, he seemed to be as adverse to clothing, if not more so, as any house elf, who considered clothing disgraceful.

Neither did he carry himself like a house elf. There was not the slightest trace of subservience. Indeed, he stood there, arms crossed, glaring at Mrs. Figg as the talons of his foot clicked on the hard wood floor.

"You're not magical?", Mrs. Figg asked.

"I don't know anything about that. Like I said, I am a digimon; I came from the Digital World, not the Material World".

Before the conversation could proceed, there was a new arrival.

"Mundungus Fletcher! What is the meaning of this?! Deserting your post, I don't know what Albus could have been thinking: putting his trust in an irresponsible git like you!"

Fletcher certainly looked the part, as he was as scruffy, and in need of a hot shower, as any street person, muggle or magical.

"Wuss dis awl boud? Whudai do? I jus taken care uv bidness. Godda line on a buyer fer meh cauldrons. Man's godda make a liven doan he?" Fletcher protested in self justification. Then he noticed the house guests.

Hoo dey be?", he asked. It was obvious that manners and this man were not well acquainted.

"They are the ones who were there to do _your_ job while you were out peddling your stolen cauldrons. That's who they are. Harry was waylaid by dementors. If they hadn't come along... I don't want to think of the consequences".

"'Owsai possed ter know? Sides, dey wusunt stole, I foundem. Juss dropped outa ter sky, lost from a broom, mefinks..."

"A likely story", Mrs. Figg dismissed. "That's neither here nor there. You had a responsibility..."

'Menters here?! Thas naw sposed ter 'appen..."

"What's not supposed to happen is you to abandon your post and leave Harry unprotected. You know that He-who-must-not-be-named is out to get him. Now sit down and shut up", she ordered.

"Bleedin squib gibben orders", he muttered.

"What was that?", Arabella asked.

"Nutin"

This Fletcher pulled out a dirty, black pipe. He put the tip of his wand to the bowl, and began drawing in these clouds of malodorous green fumes. Impmon wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions...", she continued.

"Damn straight", Impmon said.

"Let's hear her out", Jadin suggested. "Now, I haven't got the foggiest idea as to who you people are, or what you're hiding. As for these 'dementors', you seem to know all about them. All _I_know is that we were minding our own business when we saw what we took for a digital field, and the materialization of an unknown digimon. I thought it very strange: digital fields normally look like a fog bank, or thick mist, and they are very bright as you enter one. This looked exactly the opposite. When we confronted these dementors, we still thought they were digimon.

"I'm a Digimon Mentor" He pulled out his digivice. "That's what those of us who have been chosen by our partner digimon who come from the Digital World call ourselves. We also receive these digivices which allow us to communicate with our partners, identify any strange digimon we might happen to meet, and since the Digientelechia is located in the Digital World, it also evolves our digimon to higher levels; that's what Harry witnessed: digivolution.

"The Digital World exists as an alternate reality which is composed of pure data. It has no substance. Recently, the inhabitants, the digimon - short for digital monster - have acquired the ability to materialize themselves into our world as fully physical beings. How they do this, no one knows exactly. Despite the name, most digimon don't live up to the 'monster' part. However, some do, and it is these feral and destructive digimon who cross over who cause problems for all the digimon, like Impmon, who want to get along with this world. That's why they need human partners - Mentors - to instruct them into the ways of humans and the Material World".  
>"You destroyed the dementors?", Figg asked.<p>

"You betcha: nailed 'em real good with my Champion level attacks", Impmon agreed. "The strangest thing, though, was there was no data. Not that I'd've downloaded it. I sensed these dementors were bad news".

"You are right: they are 'bad news'... I can't say I fully understand", Mrs. Figg explained. "We have a problem that you don't seem to have: the Ministry of Magic, and the International Law of Secrecy. The only ones who are allowed to know are magicals like Harry and Mundungus, their spouses, and squibs like myself who are born into magical families, but who don't inherit magical abilities. Even we are under the jurisdiction of the Ministry, and bound by the same laws. I will have to report this, but I can't say how the news will be received. I do have faith in Albus Dumbledore, that he will do the right thing. Though you have seen things you were never meant to see; know things you were never meant to know. And you have a companion who seems to be some sort of magical being..."  
>"That's not true", Impmon protested. "I am a citizen of the Digital World. We have nothing to do with this magical crap, and your Ministry has no claims on us. None of this concerns me or my partner..."<p>

"I'm afraid that it does now", Arabella explained. "Regardless of what you claim, you _look_ like a magical being and you have abilities that no muggle has; the Ministry claims jurisdiction over all magical beings. They may well decide that digimon are magical..."  
>"We aren't. This is technological", Impmon protested. "Just now, the inhabitants of the Material World are becoming aware of the Digital World".<p>

"You, both of you, are in danger now. You destroyed two dementors, and that bit of knowledge will reach whoever sent them into a muggle area. You can't appreciate how brazen an act this was. He-who-must-not-be-named, or more likely, one of his minions inside the Ministry did this. They are going to want to know why the attempt on Harry failed, and what happened. He-who-must-not-be-named will find out. He will be especially interested since it was a muggle using muggle technology who's responsible".  
>"Muggle: what does that mean?", Jadin asked.<p>

"People without magical abilities are called 'muggles' by those who have it".

"'E dun... wuh?!"

"Not now, 'Dung", she reprimanded.

"I don't know who...", Jadin began to ask.

"That's not important right now. I suspect that Mr. Dumbledore will be paying you a visit very soon. What you need to know is that He-who-must-not-be-named is a very dangerous character. He is the reason Harry Potter needs our protection, the reason Harry must stay here in Little Whinging. If he learns of the existence of new, powerful beings such as your digimon, he will take an interest in you. You don't want him interested in you. People who become interesting to him frequently wind up dead. I can't emphasize just how dangerous he is".  
>"So what are you saying?", Impmon asked.<p>

"Be careful with whom you associate. I'll do my best to watch out for you, but my priority is the protection of Mr. Potter. The rest is up to Mr. Dumbledore".

"Who's this...", Jadin started.

"I've said more than I should have already", Mrs. Figg apologized. "For now, all you need to know is that Albus Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard, and he's a good man. You won't have any problem recognizing him".

Turning to Fletcher: "Get to Dumbledore at once, he needs to know everything. This time, no side trips, and don't fail us again".

Turning to Jadin and Impmon: "You two should go now, and do try to stay out of sight".

"What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into now?", Impmon asked as they left 11 Privet Dr.  
>"I have no idea", Jadin replied. "It looks like you're about to get your wish: things are gonna get interesting".<p> 


	2. Dumbledore's Dilemma

**2) Dumbledore's Dilemma**

_12 Grimmauld Place_

"Up to your rooms", Molly Weasley ordered Ron, Fred and George – the twins, and Ginny her sons and daughter.

"Do we hafta?", Fred protested.

"We've been over it and over it: not while you are underage. Dumbledore's orders. Now scoot!", Molly ordered, as the guests were arriving.

George and Fred apparated to their upstairs bedroom, as they had just received their apparition licenses and used them at every excuse.

"Do they have to be such gits", Ginny protested. "Rubbing it in like that?"

"They're a bit over eager", her mother agreed. "The novelty will wear off soon enough".

"C'mon, Ron", she said as she and her brother, who was between the twins and her in age turned to go to their bedrooms the old fashioned way. None of the Weasley kids liked being left out. If they were good enough to help with cleaning and making the Black homestead livable again, after a decade of abandonment and neglect, they figured they were good enough to at least sit in on the meetings that occurred here.

Molly and Sirius Black greeted the arriving guests: Remus Lupin, Alistair "Mad Eye" Moody, Molly's husband Arthur, Severus Snape, Hestia Jones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Bill Weasley, and, of course, Albus Dumbledore.

"Ummmm", Molly started, "Could I ask a favour?', she asked of Mad Eye.

"What is it?", he replied.

"Upstairs, in one of the desk drawers, there's something in there".

Mad Eye, to his friends, was a legendary auror. His battle scars included a slash across the face, half his nose and part of his leg were missing. As a result, he carried a walking stick that could double as a club. One eye was gone, replaced by a large, electric blue "cybernetic" eye held in place with a leather head band, much like an ordinary eye patch. This "cybernetic" eye (the origin of his nick name) had the ability to see, not only in every direction, but also things not normally visible.

The appearance very intimidating, and as far as Moody was concerned, just tools of the trade. Better to take suspects into custody without a fight. Moody had avoided many a fight with some dangerous dark wizards and other wizarding undesirables. They preferred facing Azkaban and its dementor guards than Mad Eye.

The eye rotated upwards.

"It's a boggart", he informed her. The cybernetic eye could see through walls and floors.

The house, having been neglected for so long, had quite an infestation of unwanted magical entities. Boggarts were the least of it. These "non-beings" (so called as they lacked a fixed physical form) liked secluding themselves in dark, neglected places like old wardrobes and desk drawers. When observed, they took on the form of whatever it was that the viewer was most afraid. There was a charm, Ridikkulus, to combat them, as this charm transformed them into comedic, non-threatening forms. If they got no reaction, they'd go looking for more promising prey.

Not nearly so bad as the doxies which had taken over the curtains. These fairies not only had a nasty bite, but also a venomous one. Before clearing out doxies, it was essential to have the antidote readily available.

"I thought so, but I wanted to be certain", Molly didn't really need to explain.

"Shall we?", Dumbledore led the way into the drawing room. The doors closed, and behind the Muffliato and Impenetrable charms to keep Fred and George from using their self-invented eavesdropping device, the Extensible Ears, from listening in, the meeting proceeded.

"I have called this special meeting of the Order to discuss a most disturbing development", Dumbledore began his presentation. "As you are undoubtedly aware, Mr. Potter has been accused of using underage magic in a muggle area. The Ministry wanted to confiscate his wand, and remove him from Hogwart's. Had that been allowed to stand, Mr. Potter would be rendered defenseless against Voldemort. He must still face the Wizengamot, but that is not the reason why you are here.

"I have received a communique from Mr. Fletcher. As you know, he and Arabella Figg were stationed in Little Whinging to watch over and protect Mr. Potter. What you don't know about the dementor attack is that he and his cousin, Dudley Dursley, were rescued by a muggle boy..."

"That's not possible..."

"Can't be..."

"How..."

"Silence!", Dumbledore put an end to the developing pandemonium.

"As I was saying, this muggle boy – one Jadin Weston – and his partner: a creature I understand to be a 'digimon' (finger quotes) arrived at the scene of the attack. He, or rather this partner, destroyed both dementors..."

"You can't kill dementors!", Mad Eye protested. If it were within the realm of possibility, then surely he would have heard of it before now.

"No, we can't, however this digimon certainly did, and Arabella was there to witness this, as was Mr. Potter. I don't know how it is possible either, but these digimon aren't of our world. According to Arabella, the Weston boy's partner says they come from another world he called the Digital World. What is impossible in this world may be possible in that other world".

"Are you certain?", Kingsley asked. "Was Mrs. Figg's observation reliable? Don't forget: this is Mundungus Fletcher we're talking about".

"I have personally taken care of the matter. I viewed Mrs. Figg's memory of the incident in the Pensieve, and it is quite true", Severus Snape drawled. "Fletcher doesn't have the imagination to make up a story like that".

"Only recently have the muggles become aware of the Digital World, and that by means of muggle technology. Since we don't use such technology, we wouldn't know", Lupin explained.

"Fascinating!", Arthur Weasley replied. He was the Ministry's Muggle Affairs director, and was interested in all aspects of muggle technology, though his understanding was superficial. "They discovered an entire new world? They're meeting its inhabitants?"

"I heard... rumours", Remus Lupin told them, as he actually worked in a muggle career. "I didn't put much credence in them, though. Supposedly, there were some incidents of witnesses reporting strange animals some years ago. 'UMAs' (finger quotes) they were called: Mysterious Unidentified Animals. The Japanese were investigating, but details were quickly suppressed..."

"What do you know, Moony?", Sirius asked, addressing him by his old school nick.

"Digimon are video game characters for muggle kids. They play on-line, and there is a trading card game. That's about the extent of my knowledge. If they really do exist, and are appearing here in our world..."

"Then we may have found allies against Voldemort", Dumbledore completed that thought.

"What makes you think they won't take sides with He-who-must-not-be-named?", Mad Eye protested.

"Jadin's digimon already acted against Voldemort", Dumbledore explained, "as did Jadin himself. It should not be that difficult to get him and his partner on our side. As I understand it, he is already on friendly terms with Mr. Potter. Does he really have a choice now? He will need our protection against Voldemort, and you can be sure he _will_ know about it, sooner rather than later, I think".

"What can one muggle boy and one digimon accomplish?", Tonks asked.

"We don't know there aren't more", Dumbledore explained. "Jadin went to investigate in the first place as he believed he was witnessing the arrival of another digimon. He alluded to his not being the only muggle with a partner, as he referred to them as the 'Digimon Mentors' (finger quotes). We need all the help we can get, given the resistance we're getting from Cornelius Fudge and the rest of the Ministry. I believe the Weston boy can be most useful to us".

"Have you approached him?", Arthur asked.

"I shall in due time. In the mean time, I would like to learn more about this Weston lad and his partner".

"I'll take care of that", Remus promised. "Being a muggle, there should be lots of information available on-line".

"Have you taken any steps?", Tonks asked, "for protection?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Fletcher has put up wards around the Weston residence. I shall reinforce them, and the wards around the Dursley's residence as well. It is imperative that we protect the Weston boy, and, of course, Mr. Potter and his aunt and uncle. As we can not trust the Ministry, it is essential that no Ministry official learn of this. Since Mr. Potter cast a Patronus charm, even though unsuccessfully, the Ministry knows about the underage magic".

"What do you suggest?", Severus asked.

"That you put Mundungus Fletcher under the Confundus as soon as possible, and that Arabella's memories of this digimon be obliviated. Without their knowledge, of course".

"If Arabella doesn't remember", Tonks objected, "how can she watch over Weston?"

"Arabella doesn't live on his street. Besides, she's needed more for watching out for Mr. Potter. The Weston boy has demonstrated he can take care of himself. Squibs can't resist a Legilemens, let alone one as accomplished as Voldemort", Dumbledore explained.

"It will be necessary to take more proactive steps. The first order of business is to remove Mr. Potter from the vicinity. This will give Voldemort less reason to pay attention to Little Whinging, and by extension, Mr. Weston", Dumbledore explained. "I also intend for Mr. Weston and his digimon partner to join us at Hogwart's".

"_Surely_ you jest", Severus drawled.

"No, Severus, I do not. Where better to protect them, keep them out of Voldemort's hands? How better to convince him to join our side by making them feel they have something in common with us?"

"A muggle at Hogwart's?!", for the first time Severus raised his voice, "disgraceful. No such thing has ever been done".

"There is a first time for everything. Concealing his true nature will require the co-operation of the staff and faculty. I see no alternative here, I'm afraid. Were these normal times, which they are not, it would be out of the question. As for the digimon, Hagrid can take care of him, as he can pass as a magical creature. Under the unfortunate leadership of Minister Fudge, exceptions must be made. It is time to think the unthinkable".

"I don't like it", Mad Eye protested. "You are exposing yourself to an unacceptable risk. If word of this ever leaks out, you will not last as headmaster. You and every member of the faculty who is in on such an egregious violation of Secrecy will be gone forever. Terms in Azkaban are also a very real possibility".

"I quite agree", Dumbledore replied. "However, have you considered what happens if Voldemort is successful this time? What becomes of Hogwart's then? What becomes of the Wizarding World? There is much to lose, that is true. It is also true that there is much to protect, and the Ministry isn't seeing that".

"The Minister is already threatening termination for anyone who brings up the subject of He-who-must-not-be-named", Arthur confirmed. "I was reprimanded for coming to the Professor's defense. My only choices are to not mention it again, or clean out my desk. So far, Minister Fudge is intransigent, and determined to deny the obvious: the Dark Lord has returned".

"I trust you are being discreet?", Dumbledore asked.

"Oh yes. I may not be able to do any recruiting, but it's a necessary price to keep eyes inside the ministry".

"I'm sure you will know what you need to do, Arthur".

_4 Privet Dr._

It was the fourth day since the dementors attacked. Harry had spent the time laying as low as possible. It was his misfortune to have pulled his wand on Dudley after they'd gotten into an argument over how he and his cronies had been tormenting the younger children at the playground. As a consequence, Dudley truly believed that all he'd seen and felt had been Harry's doing. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been all too eager to believe the worst of the nephew they considered an unwanted burden.

The only thing that saved him was that his Aunt Petunia was a squib who knew about dementors. It was she who narrowly convinced her husband, Vernon, not to kick Harry out of the house.

It didn't help matters that Dudley had gone on and on about a giant fox who had rescued him. It didn't help that the house was invaded by at least a dozen owls that very night: letters from the Ministry threatening expulsion from school, confiscation of Harry's wand, the likely possibility of a number in Azkaban. Letters of advice from Arthur Weasley on what to do if Ministry officials actually arrived. Letters of reassurance that nothing would come of this from other members of the Order.

More letters countermanding, and counter-countermanding Ministry decrees. The howler Petunia received with its cryptic message: "Remember my last!" that reminded Vernon once again that he had married a squib.

Harry desperately wanted to see Mrs Figg to get some more information on Jadin and the creature he was accompanying, how they were able to destroy the dementors, what that creature did to transfigure. He was certain that Mrs. Figg must have told the Professor all about it, but, so far, he had heard nothing. It was infuriating, but that was Harry's life here at the Dursley's...

After dark, Harry had unexpected visitors.

"Pro... professor Lupin?", he asked.

"I see you recognize your old DADA professor. Allow me to introduce my new colleagues: Nymphadora Tonks..."

"Pleasure... I hate that name. You can call me Tonks"

"Alistair 'Mad Eye' Moody..."

"Mad Eye to my friends; Mr. Moody to everyone else".

"Hestia Jones..."

"Pleasure to finally meet the Boy Who Lived in person. You may not realize how much of an icon you are".

"Well, I hope I don't disappoint... I've never been an icon before", Harry started, "but why did you come?"

"You see", Lupin explained, "we're here to move you to a safe house. The Professor is concerned after those dementors attacked. If He-who-must-not-be-named would do something so brazen, and with ministry co-operation, you are no longer safe here. Neither are your aunt and uncle. After all, they did attack your cousin. Your new friend, Jadin, has also drawn the sort of attention he should not have to himself and his partner. We want He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to have as little reason as possible to be interested in Little Whinging".

"OK, so how are we going? Apparition?"

"Brooms", Mad Eye explained, "the Ministry can't track us if we avoid the Floo Network, apparition and Portkeys; we have no reason to trust the Ministry these days. Pack what you need, but only what you need, as we'll be traveling light. And be quick about it".

"What're you doing?", Mad Eye asked Lupin.

"Leaving the Dursley's a note. They deserve an explanation and an apology for the trickery".

In order to get them away from Harry, Tonks had sent Vernon a letter naming him the winner of a best kept lawn competition. She knew how vain he was about his lawn. He would, of course, insist that Dudley accompany him, and would be just as reluctant to include Harry.

_12 Grimmauld Place_

"Harry, welcome". Harry didn't learn of where the safe house was until they were well on their way. "I trust Mad Eye didn't come by way of Greenland?"

"Mrs. Weasley? Almost: we took a rather circuitous route to London"

"The kids're here too. We've all been helping Sirius clean the place up. It was in a dreadful state, with Mr. Black's being away..."

"He was in Azkaban. You needn't be delicate about that with me. After all, I helped him escape".

"That's right, anyway, Ron and the others are waiting for you upstairs. Off you go".

There would be another meeting, and Harry wasn't invited. No underage wizards allowed.

"Ron? Hermione?", Harry started.

"Harry..."

"It would have been nice of you to have written at least _one_ damned letter. All summer long, I hear _nothing_! You _know _what I have to put up with, and at least an occasional owlpost is all the connection to the outside I have. Were you too f'kin' busy to send off even a single owlpost? "

They were interrupted by the arrival by apparition of George and Fred.

"I thought I heard your dulcet tones, Harry", George said.

"Might have been a couple people next town over who didn't hear. You really shouldn't keep your feelings all bottled up inside like that. Not good for you".

"Why don't you leave him alone?", it was Ginny, arriving by more conventional means.

"Calm down Harry", Hermione told him. "It's the same for us. We wrote – all of us – but all our owlposts were intercepted..."

"Intercepted?", Harry asked, incredulous. "Who..."

"The Professor's orders", Hermione explained.

"The.._... Professor!"_

"Not even muggle mail was safe", Hermione explained, "I tried – more than once – but every time the post 'lost' (finger quotes) my letters to Little Whinging. There's something going on. We don't know what it is..."

"It has something to do with those meetings in the drawing room. These folks show up at odd intervals, and we're sent to our rooms for the duration. No one tells us a damn thing", Fred explained.

"We used to be able to hear with the Extensible Ears, but they wised up to that", George added.

"Any idea what?", Harry asked.

"It has to do with You-know-who, and something Dumbledore's cooked up. It looks like he's doing an end run-around the Ministry... Fudge isn't gonna like that".

"Why are you here, Hermione?", Harry asked.

"Besides the chance to see you? The Professor asked that I come. He didn't explain why".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"What have you discovered?", Dumbledore asked.

Lupin stood to address the rest of the assembled group:

"Jadin Weston is sixteen, and raised in Defiance, Ohio, United States. His father is Dirk Weston, mother: Cecelia Weston. Dirk and Jadin came to England recently, due to Dirk's having received a promotion that involved his coming to work at his firm's London offices. The mother is staying behind to wind up family business. She is expected within the next four months. The assignment will last for three years.

"It would seem that young Mr. Weston had mixed feelings about coming to London..."

"And you know this, how exactly?", Snape asked.

"I used an Internet search engine called 'Google', and found all of this written by Jadin himself on what's called 'Facebook' – it's a social networking web site. He didn't bother to hide this behind a privacy filter". Lupin could tell he'd already lost his audience.

"Does he mention anything about these digimon?", Dumbledore asked.

"There isn't much mentioned, other than he plays the game sometimes, and he has done some of what's called fanart, but that's it. He doesn't mention anything that I can find about these Digimon Mentors 'Dung mentioned".

"I would have liked to learn more", Dumbledore seemed disappointed. "Otherwise, well done Remus. How did it go with Fletcher and Figg?", he asked next.

"I caught up with Mundungus at the Leaky Cauldron", Snape reported. "Putting him under the Confundus quietly and discreetly was easy. He isn't exactly bright, as you know.

"I took care of Arabella that night. Apparated straight to her bedroom, and obliviated her. So far as she knows, it was Mr. Pot-ter who ran off the dementors with a Patronus".

"Another fine job for the Order", Dumbledore congratulated.

He stepped to the drawing room door: "Molly, would you invite the kids down here?"

The bedroom door opened: "Would you come down to the drawing room. The Professor would like a word with you".

"You mean we _actually_ get to see the Inner Sanctum?", George asked.

"Fred, George: no apparating this time", she reminded.

They all filed down the stairs. For once, the doors to the drawing room were wide open, no Impenetrable in the way.

"Harry, would you be so kind as to describe your latest adventure?", Dumbledore invited.

He told all about the dementors, how he and his cousin/step-brother were rescued, learning about Mrs. Figg and her purpose. Held incommunicado by his aunt and uncle, who still weren't convinced he wasn't responsible for Dudley's condition later that night.

"They actually killed two dementors?", Hermione asked.

"Quite, Miss Granger", Dumbledore agreed. "That's why I have asked you to come to this meeting. You see, Jadin Weston will be joining you at Hogwart's".

"Isn't he a muggle?" Ginny asked.

"Quite the muggle. That's why I am asking you now for your co-operation. I need you to cover for him in class. I will arrange a schedule that will avoid his having to work wand magic, but I will still need to rely on you to protect his cover as a transfer student from the North American Convention. I know of no other way to protect the boy from Voldemort. After destroying those dementors, he is sure to learn of what these digimon can do. Can I count on you?"

"You can always rely on us", Harry insisted.

"We'll do it", Ron agreed.

"I could get him up to speed", Hermione volunteered.

"I have every confidence in you", Dumbledore congratulated.

"Professor", Harry asked, "what is going on here?"

"We call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix, and that is all you need to know for now".

"Why did you interfere with our owlposts?", Harry vaguely accused.

"Harry, it was an unfortunate necessity. Now that Voldemort has returned to physical form, come back into his power, and is on the move, I thought it best. It was for the protection of your friends: it's best that Voldemort not know who is close to you as he won't be able to use them to get to you. I know it worked a hardship, and for that I apologize, but it was best for all of you".

"He's getting to be a problem", Dumbledore observed after Harry and the other Hogwart's students had gone back to their bedrooms.

"Haven't I warned you about Pot-ter?", Snape told him. Snape always pronounced the name, emphasizing both syllables with a hint of a sneer. He made no secret of his disappointment in the Boy Who Lived, even if he was Lily Evans' only son.

"And you propose to add a muggle boy into the mix?"

"That's enough, Severus. You already made your feelings on the subject known", Dumbledore reprimanded his Potions professor.

"Allow me to take care of it", Mad Eye volunteered.


	3. Order of the Phoenix

**3) Order of the Phoenix**

"Harry? A word with you?"

"Certainly, Mr. Moody", Harry wondered what he wanted.

"It was before your time", he began, "during the first rampage of the Dark Lord. There was an original Order of the Phoenix in those days. I was one of the original members, as was your former DADA instructor: Mr. Lupin", Moody produced a photo album.

"This is me, in my younger days", Moody pointed out a figure with a whole face, two normal eyes, and all his limbs intact. He was barely recognizable. Harry had to agree: he had been a handsome man.

"I'm sure you recognize Mr. Lupin? He really hasn't changed all that much".

Harry had to agree. Except for the darker hair, he did indeed look little different.

"Is that...", Harry started.

"Your Mum and Dad", Moody agreed. "They were also in the original Order. As was Sirius Black, and another member of the Marauders: Peter Pettigrew, better known as Wormtail..."

Harry well knew who this was: the Death Eater who framed Sirius for serial killings that put him in Azkaban for years, and charges of which he was yet to be cleared. The traitor who dropped the Fidelius Charm around the Potter cottage, the faithful servant who had performed the ritual in the grave yard of Little Hangleton that returned his lord and master to fully physical form. Making the Triwizard trophy into a portkey that transported them to that very graveyard is what got Cedic Diggory, the Hufflepuff Champion, killed. The fugitive who spent fourteen years hiding as Ron's familiar: the rat Scabbers. Wormtail had cost many good people their lives.

"This is Frank and Alice Longbottom: the parents of your friend Neville", as he pointed out the couple. "Bellatrix tortured them beyond the point of sanity, trying to determine the fate of the Dark Lord shortly after his initial fall. They are still living in the psych ward of St. Mungo's. They will undoubtedly spend the rest of their lives there.

"Your classmate, Susan Bones? She lost most of her relatives..."

"Why are you showing me this?", Harry finally asked.

"I'm trying to impress on you and your friends that we are not playing games here. This is serious business, deadly serious, and you can take that literally. I was once a teenager myself, as hard as it may be for you to believe that, but it's true. I know you feel as though you are being cut out of the 'fun' – your friends, the Weasley boys – certainly do. However, Harry, there is no game, and we are not playing. If Professor Dumbledore is not as forth coming as you would like, believe this: it is for your own good, as much as I dislike saying it as you undoubtedly dislike hearing it. It really is for your own good... We, and that includes the Professor, would greatly appreciate a bit more co-operation on your part. I hope you understand".

"What is it that you're doing... if you don't mind, that is?"

"We are keeping known Death Eaters under surveillance, keeping an eye on known dark wizards and dark beings whom he might enlist, reviewing the _Daily Prophet_ and the muggle media for signs of the Dark Lord's activities, trying our best to warn as many as possible of the existing threat, among other activities I'd rather not discuss".

"Thanks for telling me what you can".

Moody figured it was harmless to reveal what he did, and if it satiated Potter's curiosity, and that of his friends, then it was necessary. The last thing the Order needed was for Potter and company to be going off on their own. He well knew the Potter reputation for that. Harry inherited it from his father.


	4. The Trial

**4) The Trial**

"I don't understand, Mr. Weasley, why are we taking the Tube?", Harry asked. Arthur Weasley was accompanying Harry to the trial before the Wizengamot for his use of underage magic.

"There are some things you need to know, and this will give us the time to talk in private. I can't guarantee that privacy at the Ministry".

Once they were on their way, Arthur cast the Muffliato Charm, that shut out the general noise, and prevented eavesdropping, either by muggles, or any magicals who might be here.

"You understand what their accusation and case is?", Arthur asked.

"Underage magic, magic in muggle areas, and in the presence of a muggle", Harry answered what Arthur obviously knew already.

"It is very important that you make no mention of Jadin Weston, Impmon, that fox that rescued you, the destruction of the dementors. Tell them that you successfully cast the Patronus Charm, and the last you saw of them was their fleeing. It is vitally important that you tell them _exactly_ what they want to hear".

"Lying under oath..."

"There are times when a small lie can serve a greater truth, Harry, and this is one of those times. You must not make any mention of digimon. You will be placing Jadin and probably others in grave danger if you do. We already know You-know-who has eyes and ears inside the Ministry. Why do you think they are pursuing this matter? Harry, they _want_ you disarmed and defenseless! You are already a thorn in their side, and they want it gone. You can not give them the ammunition they need to do that to you".

"What if they use something? Veritas Serum..."

"They won't do that unless you give them a reason to believe you are lying. You do have the truth and right on your side. Don't think of it as lying, as most of what you need to say is the truth. You're just concealing a small, irrelevant detail, that's all".

"I just hope I can pull it off".

"I'm sure you can. Don't let them intimidate you. The whole proceeding will be arranged for that purpose. Knowing that, going in, will help you keep your wits about you. I'm sure you will do just fine, and not let the Professor down".

They'd arrived at the shabby building that concealed the offices of the Ministry. Harry checked in at the phone booth that served as the vsiitor's entrance while Arthur checked in at the main entrance for employees. To muggles, the phone booth operated normally. For magicals, entering the special code number activated the Ministry entrance system.

"State your name and the nature of your business", the voice on the other end asked.

"Harry Potter. I'm here to answer a summons from the Wizengamot".

A token stamped "Summons" dropped into the coin return slot. The floor of the booth dropped below the street, and opened onto the expansive lobby. The first thing was to check in at the security kiosk, and turn in the token he'd received.

"Wand?", the security guard asked.

Harry turned it over: "Identity confirmed: Harry Potter. You'll get this back when you leave. Wait here for an escort..."

"That won't be necessary. He's with me", Arthur explained as he came up to the kiosk. "We can wait in my office", he invited.

"Very good, Mr. Weasley", the guard waved them onwards.

As they headed for the lifts, Harry thought: "Ten galleons for you if I get off", as he passed the Fountain of Magical Brethren. This decoration was a recent addition, courtesy of Minister Fudge. Harry thought it in bad taste. Clustered around the statues of a male and female magician, a centaur, house elf, and goblin looked up worshipfully at the couple. Centaurs, especially, disliked humans, and had resisted for centuries the Ministry's efforts to include them. They resented even the Ministry's effrontery as to classify them as magical beings.

If house elves behaved in a worshipful manner, it was only because of the binding enchantment which gave them no other choice. Having come to know personally a particularly annoying member of the species, Harry knew this was not how house elves actually felt.

Goblins were useful, exceedingly greedy: they made excellent bankers. This made them especially diligent when it came to protecting valuables placed in their care. Gringott's, the wizarding bank, was run exclusively by goblins. That was part of Gringott's charter. On the down side, you had to watch out for them, otherwise, they would put one over the first chance they got. If given the slightest bit of wiggle room, they were notorious for going back on their word.

Goblins also had unusual beliefs about property rights. To goblins, anything they produced was considered as rightfully belonging to its creator. Even if commissioned to make something, they considered the purchase as "rent". Upon the buyer's death, ownership reverted back to the manufacturer. They resented that goblin made jewelry and other artifacts were wrongly passed down as family heirlooms. This, they considered as evidence of wizarding duplicity and arrogance.

As for relations, there had been a terrible war fought between magi and goblins several centuries ago. Many casualties on both sides. The war had ground down to a draw. Otherwise, Harry had no doubts but that genocide would have followed in the wake of a decisive victory by either side.

Fudge's fountain spoke volumes about the state of denial the Minister lived in regarding the world which he led.

The lifts looked like a very grudging concession to modernity, as these looked like they came straight out of the 1900s. Not the comfortable cubicles of modern office towers, these lifts still had chain link, sliding doors. They were noisy and jerky. As Harry and Arthur entered a lift, they were joined by more people, and a flight of pink paper airplanes. These airplanes were a cost-cutting measure that reduced the number of message runners the Ministry had to pay.

Though looking like ancient muggle technology, the lifts could move both vertically and horizontally. At the various stops, people and planes got on and got off. Finally, they'd arrived on the floor where Arthur's offices where he worked as the director of the Office of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. It wasn't exactly a prestigious office, but it paid well enough. It also allowed Arthur to indulge his fascination with muggle tech.

Arthur invited Harry to take a seat: "So you'll be taking your OWLs this year?", he asked.

"Doesn't seem like it's been five years", Harry sighed.

"Ron feels the same way", Arthur replied.

The conversation went like this: idle chit-chat, nothing said that might pique the interest of whoever was undoubtedly listening in. Nothing involving Voldemort in any way, shape, or form. Not even Harry's well known adventures.

"Yes, Perkins?", Arthur asked as his assistant interrupted.

"They changed the time and place", he announced. Old Courtroom Ten, and Potter should have been there five minutes ago".

"Shit!", Arthur muttered. Of all things...

Old Courtroom Ten was in the lowest level, one the lifts didn't reach.

"C'mon!", Arthur urged.

Down to the lowest level the lifts serviced, down a flight of stairs, past a dark corridor. The courtroom was ancient, dimly lit, and a certain gloom and dankness hung in the air.

"This is as far as I go", Arthur explained. "I'll be waiting here for you, and good luck".

Harry saw that the whole Wizengamot was sitting for his case. That seemed very odd, given the relatively minor nature of the charges. He recognized Percy Weasley who was the court recorder, but Percy refused to make eye contact.

"You're late, Mr. Potter!", the presiding judge, and also the Minister, Cornelius Fudge reprimanded from his elevated bench. "Take your seat".

As soon as he sat down, animated chains bound his wrists and ankles.

"You would do well to take your civic duties and responsibilities more seriously, young man. Otherwise, I might wonder if you aren't demonstrating contempt for this court".

Checking his anger: "Forgive me, Your Honour, I won't let it happen again".

"See that you don't, Mr. Potter. Shall we proceed..."

"Excuse the intrusion, Your Honour".

"Dumbledore? What is the meaning of this?", Fudge demanded. 

"It would seem that my notification as to the rescheduling of Mr. Potter's hearing was overlooked. Fortunately, I happened to be here at the Ministry on other business...", he paused to let that sink in. He well knew this had not been just another routine bureaucratic lapse, and he knew Fudge knew he knew.

"I shall be acting as Mr. Potter's council... if he is agreeable, that is".

"Do you accept Albus Dumbledore as your council, Mr. Potter?"

"I do"

"Very well..."

"One indulgence, if it would please the court", Dumbledore asked. "A concession to my age", as he conjured a comfortable easy chair for himself.

"May we proceed?", Fudge asked, with an edge to his voice. "Ms. Umbridge, read the charges of the indictment"

"The defendant, one Harry James Potter, is charged with violating the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery when, on the evening of 2 August at 9:23PM the defendant cast a Patronus Charm in a muggle settlement, Little Whinging, in the presence of a muggle: one Dudley Dursley".

"How do you answer the charge?", Fudge asked.

"The defendant pleads not guilty", Dumbledore replied for his client.

"On what grounds? The Ministry for Underage Magic has the record right here. A Patronus Charm was indeed cast at the time and place specified in the indictment", Fudge objected.

"I cite Clause Seven of Paragraph C: 'This paragraph shall not be construed to prohibit the use of magic in self defense or the defense of innocent life'. The exception is clear: Mr. Potter acted in his self defense, and in the defense of his step brother on the night in question. I ask that the charges be dropped".

"Not just yet", Fudge objected, "you are aware, are you not, that dementors are in the employ of the Ministry, and that there was no reason for them to be anywhere near Little Whinging? It is more likely that the defendant was showing off for his step brother, and that he concocted this wild tale after realizing the trouble he made for himself".

"I trust the matter of how these dementors escaped the control of the Ministry will be investigated", Dumbledore told the court. "I am prepared to produce a corroborating witness: Mrs. Arabella Figg".

"I see no witness..."

"She's waiting in the hall, right outside. I call Mrs. Arabella Figg to testify", Dumbledore announced.

"Bring the witness", Fudge ordered the bailiff.

The bailiff left and promptly returned with Arabella, who was sworn in.

"State your name for the record", Dumbledore requested.

"Arabella Figg"

"And your place of residencr?"

"Eleven Privet Drive, Little Whinging".

"Describe what you saw on the night in question", Dumbledore requested.

"When I ran into this... zone of darkness, I saw two dementors running down the alley..."

"Dementors don't run!", someone called out.

"Forgive me, I meant they were gliding, flying. One was face to face with a boy on the ground. I later found out it was Dudley. That's when Harry produced a patronus that chased them away".

"You mean the defendant?", Dumbledore asked. "Can you point him out?"

"He's sitting right there", she replied.

"Let the record show that Mrs. Figg pointed out the defendant", Dumbledore requested.

"Did you see anything else?", Fudge asked.

"Oh my yes. It was cold, much too cold for the night. It also felt like all the joy had been drained from the whole world. They were nasty, with the rattling breathe, those blank faces beneath black hoods..."

"That will be all", Fudge announced. "The witness is excused".

There would be no denying what she'd seen, especially as muggles and squibs weren't likely to know these details, and Fudge had failed to poke credible holes in her testimony. Arabella was escorted from the courtroom.

"Clearly, Mrs. Figg witnessed dementors attacking. I move for a directed verdict of not guilty", Dumbledore requested.

"Not so fast", Fudge told him, as he pulled out more papers. "There's the matter of the school records..."

"I object, Your Honour".

"On what grounds?"

"On the grounds of relevance. Student discipline for infractions of the Hogwart's Code of Conduct is at the discretion of the Headmaster, not the Ministry. Mr. Potter's school records are not relevant. This is also prejudicial to my client".

There were murmurings of agreement from the assembled jurors.

"Silence!", Fudge barked, as he banged his gavel. "Objection sustained".

Fudge continued: "There is the matter of the illegal use of a Hover Charm..."

"Your Honour: objection!", Dumbledore called out. "My client did no such thing. That was the doing of a house elf named Dobby. If you like, I can summon him here to testify..."

"The testimony of house elves is inadmissible. They'll say anything: the binding enchantment..."

"Dobby is under no such enchantment. If there is any doubt, I shall call Lucius Malfoy to the stand. After all, he was the one who freed Dobby".

"Be that as it may, he is still in your employ..."

"Not sufficient grounds for excluding his testimony. Unless, of course, the court stipulates the accusation is irrelevant and is to be stricken from the record".

"So stipulated", Fudge conceded. "The jury will disregard. The recorder will strike all mention of the incident from the record".

"That still leaves the matter of the use of an Inflating Charm..."

"I believe, Your Honour, that further investigation will show that this was determined to have been a case of accidental magic. As you are undoubtedly aware, accidental magic does not fall under the Decree. I can, of course, call to the stand the Obliviators who worked the case".

"Conceded", Fudge was out of options. "I call for a vote of the Wizengamot. All those in favour of acquittal, raise your hands".

Well over half the hands went up.

"All those in favour of conviction, raise your hands".

Fudge, Umbridge, and a few others at the bench raised their hands. The votes for acquittal vastly out numbered those for conviction.

"The defendant will rise", the bailiff announced as Potter was released.

"I find the defendant, Harry James Potter, not guilty of all charges..." Was there an unvoiced "unfortunately" in there? "You are free to go".

"Prof...", Harry saw that Dumbledore had already gone. He was not waiting in the hallway either.

"Have you seen the Professor?", he asked Arthur.

"He was here a minute ago. He looked to be in a rush, though. Let's get you back", he said as he led the way back to the main lobby.

Dumbledore didn't say a word to Harry, and he wondered what that was all about. It wasn't like him. He didn't even wait long enough for a simple "Thank you".

On the way out, Harry and Arthur noticed Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge exchanging words. Lucius looked none too happy with the Minister. No need to even wonder why.

_Little Whinging_

It was just after sundown, and the Professor had the opportunity to take care of this bit of business for the Order. He knocked on the door, not thinking to ring the bell.

"Yes, may I help you?"

Dirk Weston had a pretty good idea as to who had come calling. His visitor had obviously seen 90 come and go, yet he was tall and slender. He stood ram rod straight. His gray beard hung below the belt at his waist. He was wearing a dark purple, velvet suit. Pink tie decorated with yellow stars that seemed to be moving. Shoes old fashioned, with buckles, not laces. Half moon glasses perched on a crooked nose.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore. I believe I may be expected?"

Dirk turned: "Jadin! Impmon! Visitor!", he called out. Who else could it be to be calling dressed in what looked like a pimp outfit from a bad 1970s blaxploitation flick?

"Coming!", came a reply from somewhere above.

"Do come in", Dirk invited. Jadin and Impmon were half way down the stairs. Dumbledore thought it a good sign: that Jadin wasn't trying to conceal Impmon from his father. "Yes, Jadin did mention something about a visit, but I was expecting you sooner, the way they described it".

"Delayed by other business", Dumbledore explained as he took the indicated seat. "I came as soon as I could".

"Can I get you something?", Dirk asked. "Iced tea?" 

"Allow me", Dumbledore said, as he pulled out his wand. "Accio iced tea".

The refrigerator door opened, and the pitcher of iced tea floated out, and landed on the counter top.

"Accio four glasses"

The cabinet door opened, and the glasses appeared. A wave of the wand, and the tea was poured, the glasses floating to Dirk, Jadin, Impmon, and Dumbledore.

"_Howdjewdothat_!", Dirk called out.

"I thought you guys weren't supposed to do that hocus-pocus around muggles?", Jadin asked.

"There are exceptions to every rule, Jadin", Dumbledore explained.

"Showboating", Impmon commented.

"Quite, but sometimes it's necessary to demonstrate that what I am about to say is genuine. As you may or may not have heard from your son and his partner, magic is real. It's generally something we do not want outsiders to know. However, these are extraordinary times".

"Jadin did mention his run-in with those 'digimon' (finger quotes)".

"I see that you know about his activities?"

"We know, we're not entirely happy about it, the dangers these digimon expose him to. Ever since Impmon arrived. Jadin doesn't keep anything from us".

"Parents of magical children have very similar concerns", Dumbledore sympathized. "It goes with being the parents of extraordinary children".

"So what is it that you are after?"

"I came to extend an invitation to Jadin to join us at Hogwart's: the school of which I am current headmaster. Jadin has stumbled upon a situation that he shouldn't have, and probably wouldn't have were it not for his involvement with the Digimon Mentors. This was partially due to an unfortunate oversight on the part of one of my colleagues. It should not have been left to Jadin and Impmon to come to the aid of Mr. Potter. What is done, is done. This has placed the both of them in great danger".

"How so? What danger?", Dirk asked.

"One of our own, one who self styles himself as Lord Voldemort, has returned to his former level of power, and is ready to make another attempt to take over the Wizarding World..."

"What does this have to do with us?"

"This time, Lord Voldemort has designs on the muggle world as well. He sees muggles, non-magical humans, as being fit only to serve as slaves. Otherwise, he sees no value in their lives. He would not hesitate to enlist digimon in that quest. If he came to believe this were not possible, he is fully prepared to kill to prevent their becoming a possible threat to his ambitions. It was Voldemort who is ultimately responsible for the attack on Mr. Potter right here in town: a most wanton act indeed. I can not emphasize this enough. As it was your son and his partner who interfered with his plan, he is in great danger".

"Just who is this Lord Voldemort?"

"He is an unfortunate prodigy of mine, a young boy then known as Tom Riddle. You see, only two, three times a century does there arise a wizard of such power. His mother died in child birth, and Tom was left to an orphanage to be raised. I believed at the time that bringing him to Hogwart's would set him on the straight path. It was not to be, and he eventually gave himself over to the Darkness. It was he who made an orphan of Mr. Potter, during his last rampage some sixteen years ago. Many people, magical as well as muggle lost their lives. Now, it's starting all over again..."

"Fascinating tale, I'm sure, but how is this any of our responsibility? Convince me Jadin's in some sort of danger, and I'll see him on the next flight out of London".

"I must disagree on that. Voldemort is not picky when it comes to exacting vengeance, or when he needs to make examples. If he couldn't get at Jadin, then he would come after you. Such defiance, he does not tolerate. You would have to leave for America, and hope that he doesn't have designs on America. Knowing Voldemort as I do, it's only a matter of time until he is no longer satisfied with Magical Britain, or all of Europe. That kind of madness for power is never satisfied".

"Then why are you telling us this? Why aren't you telling the Queen or the Prime Minister, or MI-6, or whoever the hell has the responsibility to defend this country?"

"Would the muggle authorities believe us? We have gone to great lengths for over three centuries to convince muggles that magic is just the stuff of legends and myth. Even if we were believed, Voldemort has spells that can put people under his direct control. If he wanted the muggle Prime Minister to order a nuclear strike on Washington, DC, he would do it without ever realizing what he'd done. No, Mr. Weston, it's best that they _don't_ find out".

"So what are you proposing here?"

"Jadin and Impmon can be best protected at Hogwart's. There is a security perimeter that will keep Voldemort out, and I have taken measures over the summer to strengthen that perimeter. Jadin will be welcome to attend, be protected, make new friends, and join the Hogwart's family".

"That's all well and good, but of what value is an education there? You do know he's supposed to start high school next month?"

"I'm afraid it's not of much use to muggles, of course. Suppose you send him to high school? Lord Voldemort would not hesitate to attack Jadin there, and would have no reticence over endangering the lives of the other students. You see, there are more lives at stake here than just your family. Voldemort has already proven that the last time. I can not emphasize enough just how grave your situation is..."

"You keep saying that, but I haven't noticed..."

"You wouldn't", Dumbledore explained, "my colleague and I have cast protective charms around your home to deter Voldemort and his followers. However, that can accomplish just so much. Jadin would be better protected at Hogwart's. Having him there will divert Voldemort's attention from you and your wife when she comes to join you. Of course, I will have people looking out for you as well. Jadin _will_ be Voldemort's primary target once he learns of these digimon, if he hasn't already".

"I still don't like it..."

"Sounds like boarding school", Jadin observed. "Sounds interesting, never been to a boarding school. I assume there will be visiting days, something like that?"

"Oh yes", Dumbledore replied. "All of our students, regardless of whether they come from pure wizarding families, mixed families, or muggle families, receive visits from their parents on our feast days".

"I'm willing to try it out", Jadin volunteered.

"And your education? You heard..."

"There's always make-up during summer. Hopefully, by then, this latest shitstorm will have blown over".

"Jadin, Impmon: what can you tell me about digimon?", Dumbledore asked.

"It's like I told Mrs. Figg", Impmon began, "we come from the Digital World. It wasn't long ago that we began to discover these weak spots along the Frontier that permitted those of us who found one to transit into the Material World as fully physical beings. We haven't yet discovered how this is possible. We've known all along about the Material World, but always believed it impossible to actually drop in for visits. That's how I ended up meeting Jadin".

"It wasn't very long after that I found that I wasn't the only one", Jadin told his side. "Once digimon make the transit, they are separated from the digientelechia which drives evolution. They need partners with digivices that connect to the Digital World and the digientelechia to evolve here. That's what Harry and Mrs. Figg witnessed: digivolution".

"What is it that you do?", Dumbledore asked.

"We, the Digimon Mentors, take care of guiding our partners into the ways of humans and the Material World. We also protect against malicious and feral digimon who cross over to either cause problems, or just because they don't know any better, and who would make it all that much more difficult for digimon – like Impmon – who try to be good guests. That's why we went to investigate when those dementors showed up".

"Perfectly understandable, and we are grateful that you and your partner decided to get involved... May I see that curious device of yours?", Dumbledore requested.

Jadin handed it over. Dumbledore took out his wand once again: "Reveal", he said as he waved the tip over the digivice. Nothing happened.

"So this isn't magic?", he asked as he returned the digivice.

"No, it's purely technological. Nothing magic about it".

"I see... I wasn't aware muggle technology had come so far so fast".

"That's the thing about IT: it's been progressing at an ever faster rate", Jadin explained. "We thought we'd hit the limit of Moore's Law a long time ago, but we haven't, and it doesn't look like we will any time soon".

"Moore's Law?"

"Yes, it states that the rate of increase in the number of transistors on a processor chip increases exponentially. Currently, it takes a couple of years. That's down from the ten years, then five years, going back to the early '60's".

"I see...", Dumbledore seemed momentarily lost in thought. He had not realized how fast muggle tech was advancing. This, he knew, could pose problems for the Wizarding World, and its secrecy obsession.

"I shall be taking leave of you", he announced as he stood. "Thank you for your gracious hospitality".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Jadin! Visitor!", Dirk called out. "He'll be right down", Dirk invited her in.

"Hi, Hermione Granger", she introduced herself. "And you must be Impmon".

"Jadin".

"Impmon"

They shook hands all around.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?", Hermione said. "If you are to fit in at Hogwart's, here's what you need to know..."

Dirk Weston didn't like it one bit. However, there was no denying the truth of what Dumbledore had told him. If there was a risk, then perhaps Jadin would be better off at Hogwart's.


	5. New Kid in School

**5) New Kid in School**

"Would you extend a warm Hogwart's welcome to our new transfer student, Mr. Jadin Weston, from the United States. He shall be studying with us".

The Sorting Ceremony had just been completed, and the Professor was continuing his welcome ceremony at the end of the Start-of-Term Feast. Jadin had come with Harry and his friends on the Express; Impmon had arrived the previous night, by way of the Digital World, and was staying with Hagrid.

There was lots of polite applause from both students and faculty.

"If you would, Jadin?", the Professor requested.

Jadin stepped to the front, between the rows of tables to take a seat on the stool where the First Years had just been Sorted. He placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

"Ummmm...", the Hat remarked, "...a most unusual case indeed. Definite Gryffindore qualities here... maybe Hufflepuff... emmmm... that's not quite right...".

The Hat seemed lost in concentration for a minute: "Ravenclaw!", it announced.

This had been arranged in advance. The faculty had been split as to which House Jadin would be placed: Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Minerva McGonagall had favoured Gryffindor as this would keep Jadin closer to his friends and cover. Dumbledore favoured Ravenclaw as its common room was located the farthest away from that of Slytherin, and therefore, Draco Malfoy and his cronies. He argued it would look too suspicious if Harry and his friends, already the center of much attention form Draco, had a new addition.

The Ravenclaws clapped and cheered their latest addition as Jadin took a seat at the Ravenclaw table. This year, Ravenclaw had gotten the lion's share of First Years.

Professor Dumbledore tool his place at the brass podium shaped like an owl with outstretched wings to begin his welcome speech.

"I would like to welcome back our returning students, and to extend a warm Hogwart's welcome to our First Years. May your sojourn with Hogwart's be a pleasant one of life long friendships and academic achievement. It is a long and proud tradition going all the way back to our Founders, of which you will take your rightful places. There will be much to learn, and many challenges along the way. I am confident each and every one of you will live up to these new challenges.

I consider it a humbling privilege that I have been given this opportunity to shape your lives in your most important formative years as your Headmaster..."

The Professor paused to acknowledge the applause.

"I would like to introduce a new member of the faculty", he continued. "Ms. Dolores Umbridge will be joining us as our Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor".

This little gargoyle of a woman dressed in nothing but bright pink, including a pink bow in her hair, stood to accept applause. Her manner of dress would be more appropriate to someone much younger than herself. At first, everyone thought she was just acknowledging Dumbledore's welcome, as had every other new addition to the faculty, mostly new DADA professors. There was a long standing rumour that the DADA professorship had a jinx since there had been a string of professors who couldn't hold the position from one term to the next.

"Thank you Professor Dumbledore for that most gracious introduction". She spoke in a manner that suggested forced pleasantness. "I am sure we will get along splendidly, both staff and student body.

"Minister Fudge has made the education of young magi one of his top priorites, and that includes seeing to it that Hogwart's maintains our reputation for academic excellence. Though every Headmaster has brought something new to the Hogwart's experience, progress just for the sake of progress is something to be avoided. It is a common problem in the Muggle World, and we must learn from their mistakes. Over the years and centuries it is inevitable that much dead wood accumulates without our being able to see the slow rot set in. We must periodically prune away this dead wood to allow our older trees to continue to thrive. I shall do my part to contribute in my own small ways to this endeavor".

The other faculty were appalled at this display of arrogance. Interrupting the Headmaster's speech to give one of her own was just plain bad form. Dumbledore led the uneasy applause.

"I don't like this at all", Hermione whispered to her friends. "The Ministry put her here to meddle in our affairs. Nothing good can come of it".

Harry couldn't disagree: he recognized her from that fiasco of a trial before the Wizengamot.

"Thank you Ms. Umbridge for that uplifting speech", Dumbledore said without the slightest trace of sarcasm.

"That concludes the Welcoming Feast, so off to class".

As the students filed from the Great Hall, McGonagall was waiting at the door, passing out notes. Jadin received one, requesting his presence in Dumbledore's office complex.

McGonagall led the way to the gargoyle guarding the spiral staircase. This staircase included a decoration: another owl whose wings partially filled the circular shaft. Unlike a normal staircase, this one rose in the same manner as a screw. This, and the other staircases that connected themselves to landings leading to where their climbers needed to go, reminded him of something he might have seen in the Digital World.

That was the only thing. Hogwart's was illuminated by large bay windows, and sconces mounted to the walls or candles. No electric light was used, so far as he could see.

"You can go on ahead", McGonagall told him as he stood before the polished oak doors. He lifted the heavy brass knocker in the shape of a gryphon and let it bang.

"Come in", Dumbledore invited from behind the closed doors.

The outer office was filled with small tables upon which sat all sorts of gew-gaws. There was not a bare spot to be seen on any shelf. Dumbledore was as much of a pack rat as any Chuchidarumon. A bird which Jadin had originally taken for a scarlet macaw eyed him suspiciously from his perch. A second look confirmed that it was definitely not a parrot.

The Headmaster's office was up a small spiral stairway above the outer office, the desk just behind a window looking out over the grounds and the Quiddich pitch. Jadin headed on up.

"The others will be joining us presently", Dumbledore explained.

"Others?"

"I trust Ms. Granger was helpful?"

"Very much so", Jadin agreed.

"Then I shall have to convey my compliments to Ms. Granger".

"Professor", McGonagall said through the doors.

"Show them in".

Jadin already knew Harry and Hermione. Dumbledore introduced him to the Weasley's: Ron, Fred and George, and Ginny, Neville Longbottom, and his new Ravenclaw roommate: Horace Sedgewick.

"It is not so easy to explain", the Professor explained, "so I'll just come out and say it: your new classmate, Jadin, is a muggle..."

"_Bloody hell_! I'm rooming with a muggle?!", Horace started. "Uhhhh... sorry Professor".

"Quite understandable", Dumbledore reassured. "Jadin, would you be so kind as to explain for the benefit of those who may not be aware?"

"Of course", Jadin told the tale of his encounter with the dementors.

"Bloody hell!", this time it was Neville. "He _actually_ destroyed two dementors? Isn't that impossible?"

"Not me personally", Jadin explained. "My digimon partner did that".

"Digimon?"

"The Digital World is everywhere, yet nowhere", Jadin explained. "It isn't a physical space, as it consists of pure data, all form without substance. At first, it was believed that we had created it with our computers and the various networks. Then it turned out that the Digital World has actually existed all along, and that just now we are able to access it. It has at least two forms of what you could consider virtual life: digimon, like Impmon, and what are called 'Ancient Ones' about whom very little is known, not by us humans, and not by digimon either. Their existence precedes that of digimon by how long, no one knows.

"There may have been other forms inhabiting the Digital World, as there are ruins scattered across the Digital World whose origins and age remain unknown. What we do know is that the whole of the Digital World was a barren wasteland when the digimon arrived and began to reshape it to suit their needs. Whatever it was that came before, perhaps they destroyed themselves in some cataclysmic war, or were destroyed by some sort of natural disaster. We simply do not know.

"As for digimon, it turned out that humans created them back in the early 1990s, as an experiment in artificial life and intelligence. They were given the ability to evolve, and a survival instinct in the hopes that they would evolve like living creatures, but at a much accelerated rate. That project failed, due to a lack of interest at the time, but the characters lived on as video game characters, and card game characters. That part of the project turned out successfully. Behind the scenes, digimon continued their pre-programed evolution, until they surpassed their original designs. Now, they have evolved to the point where they can cross the Frontier, and enter the Material World".

McGonagall interrupted once again.

"Show them in".

"Rubeus Hagrid: our game keeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor", Dumbledore introduced. He was bringing along Impmon. They had come through the service tunnels that the staff of house elves used.

"Professor Hagrid", Jadin said. "S'up", he greeted Impmon. "Been treatin' you OK?", he asked.

"Very well", Impmon agreed.

"Aye", Hagrid added. "Impmon here took ter meh boarhoun' Fang rye off. Never seen innyone doo thah before".

"They really do exist?", Horace stated more than asked. Other than Harry, none of the others had heard of digimon before, let alone being in the presence of one.

"There will be time enough for introductions later", Dumbledore announced. "The reason why I have asked you here today is to ask a favour. You will be sharing classes with Jadin. It is imperative that no one discover that he is a muggle. As you know, Voldemort must not discover the existence of these digimon. Jadin's accidental involvement has placed him, his family, and his partner in grave danger. Here, they are under the protection of Hogwart's defenses. Outside, they would be most vulnerable. Can I count on you?"

"Well, yeah", Ron said, "but it's not us you need to worry about. What about Malfoy? He's always snoopin' around".

"Who?", Jadin asked.

"Draco Malfoy: Lucius Malfoy's son", Dumbledore explained. "He could be a problem..."

"The Marauder's Map", Harry suggested.

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be much use, Harry. Muggles can't use magical artifacts".

"What's this Marauder's Map? Why not at least try? If it could be of some use?"

"It tracks everyone at Hogwart's", Harry explained. "My father's invention. I'll get it", Harry offered, as he turned to leave before Dumbledore could object.

"Sounds like the perfect solution. What about this Draco?", Jadin asked.

"Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy", Dumbledore explained. "His father, Lucius Malfoy, is in the good graces of the Minister himself. If he were to learn of your, ummmm, condition, he would undoubtedly inform his father who would go straight to the Minister. You would be well advised to avoid him as much as possible, give him no reason to take an inordinate interest in you".

"Better watch out for those friends of his", Ron added, "Crabbe and Goyle. They'd follow him off a cliff. None too bright..."

"Now, now, Mr. Weasley. They are part of the Hogwart's family", Dumbledore reprimanded.

"Here it is, Professor", Harry handed over the map.

"Mr. Weston, what do you see here?", Dumbledore asked.

He picked it up, turned it over and over: "Just a blank sheet of old paper".

"That's what I see as well".

Dumbledore took out his wand, pointed it at the map as it lay on his desk: "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good".

"Now what do you see?", he asked.

"Just blank paper", Jadin replied, as nothing seemed to have happened.

"That's the point", he explained, "muggles can't use magic. I, however, see the whole floor plan of Hogwart's..."

"You didn't ask me", Impmon said. "I see the map. You have a Mary Morgaine walking down this corridor right here", as he pointed to nothing Jadin could see.

"Interesting", Dumbledore commented, "have you some magical abilities you haven't suspected?", he asked.

"I wouldn't know about that", Impmon explained, "I'm a digital being..."

Jadin picked up the map: "There is one thing I do know about magic. Charms and spells are cast on objects, but that doesn't change the underlying nature of the object, does it?"

Jadin took out his digivice: "Digitize", he said as he slid the map through the digivice's card reader. He pulled up the main menu that appeared as a holographic display that seemed to float above the device itself. He clicked on a menu item: MISC. There was one entry in a sub menu: "Marauder's Map". He clicked on that, and a splash screen appeared:

_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, purveyors of aids to magical mischief-makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map_  
>Then the floor plan of Hogwart's. There were moving dots with names beside each one. Most were occupying the various classrooms now.<p>

"That it?", he asked.

Dumbledore looked at the display, then to the map. They were the same, though the display needed to be scrolled to see it in its entirety. There was very little that could still amaze the experienced wizard. This was one of those things. He wasn't the only one.

"How did you do that?"

"The thing remains what it is. The digivice digitized the map and stored the data in its memory. You can hide the appearance, but you can't hide the underlying data. Once digitized, it makes no difference. The digivice displays everything the data tells it to".

"Is that so? Were you aware of this possibility, Minerva?"

"No", McGonagall confessed, "I hadn't even considered the possibility"

"I'm not surprised", Jadin said. "You don't know anything about technology do you? Look around: no work station on the Professor's desk, no phone, not even one of those old fashioned intercoms with all the buttons and switches. I have never seen such a bunch of extreme Luddites in my life".

Dumbledore was suspecting that the Wizarding World was a good deal more vulnerable than he suspected. Jadin was right about that: spells and charms were applied to objects.

"Jadin, you have to understand that your technology doesn't work in close proximity to magical fields. It would do us no good to have those things you mentioned. That reminds me... how does that device of yours still work?".

"This isn't a garden variety muggle device. It came from the Digital World. I wouldn't count on muggle-tech to not work here forever", as Jadin unwittingly confirmed Dumbledore's worst suspicion.

"Mischief managed", Dumbledore pointed his wand at the map again before returning it to Harry.

Dumbledore rose: "Off to class", he ended the meeting.

"What do you have now?", Hermione asked as they broke up at the gargoyle.

"Arithmancy", as he consulted his schedule.

"That's where we're headed", Hermione and Horace said.

"So you play Battle Cards too?", he asked.

"Sure do. The video game as well", Jadin replied. "You?"

"I brought my lay-out and everything, but no one seems interested in playing here".

"Well, now you can".

"We have something else in common", Horace said.

"Oh?", Jadin asked.

"My parents are also muggles... I wish I had a partner"

"Who knows? Maybe some day, you will".

_Near the Forbidden Forest_

"Would you like ter hepp me feed meh thestrals?", Hagrid asked Impmon.

"What're thestrals?", he asked.

"Dere's a herd of 'boud a hunnered livin' here. I'm prolly ter onny one whatever tried domesticatin' 'em. Qui'e smart and dead useful, dey are. Dey pull the carriages thah bring the students to Hogwart's from the station in Hogsmeade. Yeh see: thah's the t'ing: lotsa hard feelings 'bout thestrals cuz yer can't see 'em lessen you seen death. They remind us uv who we loss. Ter Mins'try says thestrals are dang'rous, but thah's nonsense. Nah a gent'ler critter inniwere.

"Inniways, juss grab a bucket and foller me".

Hagrid led the way towards a wooden shed at the fringe of the forest that was well down wind of the game keeper's cabin, and Impmon's sensitive nose soon picked up on why that was. Thestrals mainly eat carrion, and fresh blood was a favourite. Impmon carried a bucket filled with blood, and Hagrid brought a much larger bucket full of rotten beef. He led the way to the feeding troughs Hagrid had built in a clearing.

"Juss pour everythin' inta the troughs. Dey know when's feedin' time, so's dey be 'long shortly".

"I'd say so", Impmon pointed out. "Looks like one's headed our way right now"

"Ehhhh... waddu see?"

"Black with silvery eyes, the snout of a dorugremon without the blade, the wings of a devidramon, and the body of a horse... I dunnow... this one looks sick: nothing but skin and bones".

"'Ave you seen death?", Hagrid asked. "Thass why mose uv ter kids doan see 'em an' t'ink our carriages move unner dere own powuh".

"I don't necessarily see the same way you understand it. I'm probably sensing its data and processing that into a visual representation".

Impmon stepped forward to see the new Material World animal he'd never heard of or seen before. He made soft clicking sounds with his tongue and offered an outstretched hand. The thestral bent down to allow him to stroke his snout. The thestral oushed back with his bladeless dorugremon snout, nearly upsetting the smaller digimon.

"You're right: they are friendly"

"I dunnow", Hagrid said to himself, "you two tarnin' everythin' we believe upsi'e down and insi'e out".


	6. Jadin Adjusts

**6) Jadin Adjusts**

_Potions_

Jadin was making his way towards the dungeons with his new classmates.

"It's only a question of whether Snape dislikes you or loathes you", Fred Weasley was warning Jadin.

"Unless you're in Slytherin. He definitely plays favourites and docks Gryffindor points at the slightest pretext", Fred added.

"How does he feel about Ravenclaw?", Jadin asked.

"He dislikes them less, and usually leaves them alone".

"I take it Professor Snape isn't exactly a favourite instructor here?"

"That's putting it mildly", George agreed.

"Just lay low, and don't piss him off", Harry advised.

Snape's lecture hall wasn't what he'd been expecting. There was no Periodic Table of the Elements on the wall, and just plain benches with no water, gas, or fume hoods. Nothing at all in common with the chem labs at his old high school.

His teaching philosophy was put on display for all to see as this was written on the board behind the lectern:

_You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach._

"Many of you will hardly believe this is magic" was reassuring. Maybe he wouldn't blow his cover right from the get-go.

"Dunderheads as I usually have to teach" warned of a major attitude problem.

After they'd taken their places, Snape swept in from his adjoining offices. The black robes, long greasy hair, pallid skin gave him an intimidating appearance. He surveyed the new students with dark eyes over a beak-like nose, and a look of pure contempt.

"If you were to add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, what would you then have?" He drawled in that mannerism that emphasized every syllable.

Hands went up, but Snape ignored everyone: "Mr. Weston, can you tell us?", he asked.

"You would then have a potion called the Draught of the Living Death".

"And why is it called that?"

"It's a powerful sedative, leaving one so comatose they might be taken for dead".

"I see someone has been doing his preparation... Why aren't the rest of you writing this down?"

There was a scramble for quills, parchment and ink pots.

"Now, can you tell us the distinctions between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Two different names for the same herb. There is no difference".

"I see that you are not completely hopeless, Mr. Weston. Perhaps there's some promise for you after all... unlike _some_ of you".

It was obvious that last comment was meant for the Gryffindor students.

Jadin wondered what Snape was doing. Was he trying to make him blow his cover? Or was he trying to avoid even the appearance of any sort of favoritism? There was a sizable contingent of Slytherin students, including Draco Malfoy and his two side kicks.

At least his "lab" partner was Hermione, so maybe Snape wasn't as all bad as the others would have him believe? Hogwart's wasn't all that different from regular school: the more demanding teachers were always the least popular teachers. Those who taught the easy A classes, who let you skate, were always the most popular.

The class was going along nicely, as Jadin prepared ingredients for Hermione, while she brewed the assigned potion. That was until Neville called out in agony from a bench across the room. He looked up to see Seamus Finnigan's cauldron going Chernobyl. As it melted and burned its way through the table top, its red, caustic contents splashing Neville's arm and were spreading over the floor, as everyone tried to get away. He wonder3ed how this was even possible, as they weren't using potentially dangerous chemicals. Certainly nothing that could burn like thermite.

"Scourgify", Snape cast the charm that cleaned up the mess.

"How could you fail so miserably so simple an assignment?", he reprimanded.

"I don't..."

"You didn't bother to pay attention before you started. Ten points from Gryffindor"

"Mr. Weston, would you be so kind as to accompany Mr. Longbottom to Madam Pomfrey's?"

"Right away Professor".

"What happened?", Pomfrey's nurse asked as they arrived at the infirmary.

"Lab accident", Jadin said.

She had a look: "Let me guess: the Cure for Boils potion?"

"That's what we were working on, but his lab partner created a real melt-down".

"It happens. Probably put the porcupine quills in while the cauldron was still being heated. Without the horned slugs to passivate the reaction, the quills release their magic much too fast. A common mistake. I don't know why he insists on that potion when there are so many others that're just as simple and don't do nearly so much damage if you don't get them exactly right".

"That's probably the point", Neville theorized, "he likes to see painful failures. Least it wasn't my mistake, but we lost points", he complained.

"You can treat it?", Jadin asked. "Looks like a nasty burn". Neville's arm was bright red, as though given a nasty first degree burn, and was covered in red, painful blisters.

"A dose of a properly formulated potion will fix this up in a jiffy", she explained as she went to get the potion and a glass of water.

"Here, drink this", she gave Neville the dose which he swallowed quickly, but still made a face before gulping down the water. It must've tasted pretty nasty.

"I'll be OK", Neville said, "you can go on back to class".

Already, the redness was fading, and the blisters decreasing in size and also fading.

"Madam Pomfrey will want to take a look at this", the nurse said. "Wait here until she returns".

"Excuse me, Professor, just collecting my things", Jadin told Professor Snape. He saw that the class room was empty.

"I dismissed the class early", he explained. "You may or may not be aware, but I disapproved of your coming here, given your... ummmm... condition. It does please me to see you're making an effort. It disturbs me that you are one of the few students who demonstrate diligence. Unlike _some _of my students".

Jadin didn't have to wonder to whom he was referring. He'd noticed that Snape had been riding Harry especially hard this class.

"Thanks for saying so... And you can thank Hermione for that. Goes with the territory, being a Mentor. There's a lot of responsibility involved".

"I'm sure there is... a pity, really, that you do not have any magical ability". Snape pointed to the class introduction still on the board. "Otherwise, you just might be one of those few students who really could appreciate the subtle beauty of this art and science... Off you go: don't want to be late for your next class".

Jadin saw that he had some free time before Astronomy. He headed for the Ravenclaw common room, and was pleased to see he had it all to himself.

That was one of the advantages of being in House Ravenclaw. The common room was located at the top of Ravenclaw Tower, and had an expansive view of the grounds and surrounding country side. That was something no other House had. The Gryffindor common room had no windows. Hufflepuff's was located behind the main kitchen, also lacking an outside view. Slytherin's was under Black Lake, but at least it has "skylights" that let in green light, and views of schools of fish and the occasional mer-person.

He pulled out his digivice. The main menu popped up, and he selected COMM, and entered Impmon's ID.

_Hagrid's Cabin_

"How 'boud some herbal tea?", Hagrid invited.

"Hold on, incoming", Impmon announced.

Hagrid wondered what he meant by that. Impmon made a square with the thumbs and index fingers of each hand, then drew them apart, creating a holographic screen that was semi-transparent and suspended in mid-air. They could see Jadin was in the Ravenclaw common room.

"How's it goin' out there in the boonies?", Jadin asked. "Hello again, Professor Hagrid".

"Jadin", was all he could manage to say sat this unexpected display of digimon high-tech. Fang's ears pricked up, and he went to investigate. He barked at the "intruder".

"Fang!", Hagrid reprimanded the boarhound, "go lie down", as he motioned towards the dog's bed. Fang settled down.

"Just got back from feeding the thestrals... I don't see why they need to call it the 'Forbidden Forest', I mean, it's even creepier than the Dark Forest back home. At least there aren't any phascomon to attack you without warning from tree tops. Hagrid tells me that Centaurville is one place humans need to avoid... dunnow how they feel about digimon. Also, those acromantula – another must avoid. They'll eat anyone other than Hagrid, and I suppose that does include digimon".

"Thestrals?", Jadin asked.

"Yeah, those black, winged horses who pull the carriages..."

"I didn't see..." As for most of the students, it looked to Jadin as though the carriages were self-propelled.

"No one does if they haven't seen death".

"Luna said she saw those funky horses, but no one believed her".

"They should'a. Too bad, actually. They really are very gentle. I'd show 'em to you if I could".

"I'll just have to take your word for it. No problems?"

"None at all. You?"

"Had my first class in Potions. It went better than I expected. At least for me and Hermione. There was a screw-up, but it wasn't mine. Especially after everything I heard about Snape. He really ain't so bad, just a bit, well, shall I say, overbearing and demanding... At least you don't have to work to keep up a false front.

"Gotta go", Jadin signed off.

"How you du thah?", Hagrid asked.

"All digimon can. Our partner's digivices operate as communications devices because that's what they were originally designed for. All you need is the right digital ID".

"Ter P'fessuh, even, couldn'a dun innit'ing laik thah. Sure looks magical".

"It's not. There's a Material World saying: any sufficiently advanced technology would be indistinguishable from magic".

"Aye, I kin believe thah".

_Ravenclaw Common Room_

Jadin had ample warning as he heard the door knocker, and its asking a word puzzle to sign off and hide his digivice in his Ravenclaw robes. He picked up a copy of the _Daily Prophet _and pretended to be reading. Another Ravenclaw grunted a greeting as he went up to the boys' dorms. He returned a few minutes later, grunted a farewell as he said something about forgotten homework.

_Astronomy_

"Today's subject matter will be comets. Who can tell us about this?", Aurora Sinistra, the Astronomy professor asked.

"Mr. Weston", she chose among the upraised hands.

"Comets come from the Oort Cloud when gravitationally disturbed and sent towards the Sun. It could take hundreds of thousands to millions of years for a comet to arrive. Once they pass the orbit of Jupiter, they begin to give off volatile gases and dust, thus growing brighter, and will often develop the characteristic tail as they cross Mars' orbit. Even though the nucleus is quite small, the dust cloud can be thousands of miles across, accounting for the visibility..."

"Mr. Weston", Professor Sinistra interrupted, "I'm sure that's fascinating, but what about the _magical_ properties of comets?"

"Magical properties?", Jadin asked.

"Yes, Mr. Weston – as harbingers of misfortune".

"Comets still obey all of Kepler's Laws..."

"During the Battle of Hastings, a comet appeared and the Saxons were defeated. This led to a Norman occupation lasting three hundred years. A sure sign of misfortune, wouldn't you agree?"

"That was Haley's Comet, and I bet the Normans didn't think it a harbinger of misfortune".

"That's enough!", Sinistra ordered, silencing the titters among the students. "Five points from Ravenclaw, and you will see me after class for detention".

"Good going there", Harry whispered to him.

"F'kin' bullshit", Jadin whispered back.

Harry was waiting for him after class: "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Giving an honest answer to an honest question?"

"Are you just showing off? Look: stop relating magical subjects to muggle science..."

"C'mon, Harry, that's horse shit and you know it. That was disproved over five hundred years ago..."

"Just stop. Answer the damn questions properly or don't answer them at all".

"How would that look? Never participating in class?"

"It would look one _hell_ of a lot better than what you're doing. None of us are supposed to know about Oort clouds, or Kepler's Laws, or any of that muggle stuff. Did it never occur to you that they're gonna wonder how you know that?"

"Home education during summer breaks, like Hermione?"

"Hermione isn't a muggle pretending to be magical! You are! The less attention they pay you, the better!", he hissed at him.

"Alright, point taken", Jadin conceded.

"What burr got under his saddle?", Jadin asked himself as he walked off.

_Ravenclaw Common Room_

Jadin made his play: "Hyper Speed Plug-in H: double speed", as he laid the card on the lay-out. "And White Wings: Ariel attack! I win!", as he laid this card on top of the one he just played.

"Oh... I never saw that coming", Horace Sedgewick confessed. "Awesome combo there", he congratulated.

The other Ravenclaws stood around, not understanding this game that bore no resemblance to Wizard Chess, or Exploding Snaps, or any other games magi typically played.


	7. Two Weeks In

**7) Two Weeks In**

"So what do you think of Hogwart's so far?", Hermione asked Jadin. They were standing along an outside breeze way, enjoying the last of the good weather before the winter hit hard and fast.

"Trust me, you don't want to know".

"Actually, I do", she insisted.

"Very well, then, the food is great – much better than I was expecting when I heard 'boarding school'. I've definitely put on a few pounds. I have a great room mate, and the rest of the Ravenclaws have been very good to me. The classes are going along well enough, and I'm sure the instructors are all quite expert in their various fields..."

"I'm not seeing a problem here".

"It's just that Hogwart's would be an excellent academic institution for the thirteenth century. That so-called Astronomy class: I learned everything I need to know for that by sixth grade. All we're doing is learning constellations and asterisms, the visible planets, and stars. _Nothing_ about anything from the Hubble, nothing about the latest developments in dark matter and energy. Even those dinky telescopes we use up in the Astronomy Tower look like a grudging concession to modernity.

"Then there's Arithmancy. I had hopes that at least this one class might give me a head start on high school math. All that stuff about the esoteric nature of numbers served its purpose of keeping maths alive through the Dark Ages and all that. Fine and dandy, but the whole subject has come a long way since. Ironic that the professor's name should be 'Vector'. Does Ms. Septima Vector even know what a vector is, as that's a late 19th century development? I _highly_ doubt it. As for pre-calc, fugeddaboudit: Hogwart's has _yet_ to catch up to Newton and Liebniz. And they make the class a lot harder than it needs to be. I could program a lap top or even a scientific calculator..."

"You're forgetting: they wouldn't work here".

"And you're forgetting that they would outside the Perimeter. There's no reason not to..."

"You can't do Arithmancy with a computer..."

"How the hell would you or anyone else know? Have you tried? Even if computers and calculators don't work at Hogwart's what's stopping a garden variety Bic stick pen from working? Or even a regular old fashioned yellow pencil? Why is it necessary to be writing and taking class notes with bird feathers? A manual, non-electric typewriter would still work, right? So why not hand in typed reports and essays?

"Even if computers don't work here, they'd work beyond the Perimeter, wouldn't they? So why aren't we learning how to use them for those times you do get out into the Muggle World?

"Just the other day, a kid – a _Fifth Year _– in Muggle Studies _actually_ asked why airplanes don't fall from the sky. No one, not even Professor Burbage, could answer that. If I didn't know already, I could've Googled the answer in five seconds. Hell, I could teach the class better than she can. I have to constantly remind myself to play dumb in that class. Such ignorance is pathetic, and yet you seem to revel in it!"

"There's a lot of truth to what you're saying..."

"Hold on, Malfoy's coming", Jadin interrupted. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle appeared from around the bend.

"I just said 'isn't this a lovely view', I didn't mean..."

"Don't give me that! Aren't there any Ravenclaw girls for you to hit on?!"

"Really! I didn't..."

"Forget about that mudblood Ice Queen", Draco said as they passed by.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

"I don't think she's into guys, if you know what I mean", Goyle added with a wink and a chuckle.

They watched the Slytherin trio disappear from sight.

"How did you know?", Hermione asked.

"My digivice: I uploaded Harry's Marauder's Map, and have it running in the background. I programmed it to alert whenever those three are close".

"You can do that?"

"Easy as pie".

"Anyway, what I was about to say is that there is a lot of truth to what you say. We'd like to keep Hogwart's as much as it was during the days of the Founders as possible. Think of it as a continuity of generations. We of the Wizarding World do value and safe guard our traditions.

"Should we be better prepared to deal with muggles? I don't have an argument there. I never said we had a perfect world. We also have our own 'technology' (finger quotes) after all. Learning it is what Hogwart's is all about..."

"It's as though you're shutting out the world..."

"We _are_ shutting out the world. How is it any different being a Mentor? What would happen if you marched Impmon into the offices of the Beeb, and announced it to the whole world?"

"I suppose Impmon would disappear into an MI-6 lab. We have to be careful about not being seen, and have a believable excuse for times when we are..."

"It's the same..."

"No it isn't! Big difference there: I _gained_ a world; you _lost _one. Why do you think digimon are materializing now? I expect that within five years – ten at the most – digimon will be a common sight. They're opening up to the Material World".

"Hogwart's lets me simply be me. You don't know how it is, growing up as a magical in a muggle world. I was relieved to learn about Hogwart's, and so were my parents. Knowing I wasn't a freak after all, getting to meet other kids just like me. You seem to see Hogwart's as a smothering environment, but I don't feel smothered, really, I don't. Maybe we could be more open to the wider world, but it's not so bad as you make out. Maybe if you stay with us a bit longer, you'll come to see that. It's not like some of us aren't trying, take the Professor, for example. He's done a lot to further understanding between pure blood wizarding families and mixed families. He hired Lupin..."

"Then fired him when it got out he was a were..."

"Actually, he resigned. Hogwart's would have lost too many students if their parents..."

"If their _bigoted_ parents knew..."

"We are trying to change that, but it isn't gonna happen over night. Point is: we're trying... Do you really think digimon will be accepted?"

"I do. Why else would they be appearing now in our world? There will probably be an official announcement within a couple of years, that the Digital World exists. You are so firmly stuck in the Middle Ages that you haven't even noticed as the centuries passed you by. If we muggles can accept digimon, accepting wizards and witches won't be anything".

"How's Impmon getting along?", she asked to change the subject.

"So far, he's loving it: helping Hagrid take care of his critters. I'm gonna have a time prying him from here when it's time for us to go... Whenever that may be".

"Well, I have to be getting to DADA".

"I have some free time myself. Anyway, give Dolores my love".

_Defense Against the Dark Arts_

"Wands away, and take out your text", Dolores Umbridge announced as she had at the start of every class this term in the same smarmy accent that betrayed its dis-ingenuousness.

Hermione raised her hand. This had gone on long enough.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you wanted to ask something?"

"Yes, I do. Will we have some actual practice?"

"My dear, whatever are you talking about?", Umbridge asked in a manner to indicate this was far beneath her contempt.

"You know, actual defense against the dark arts".

"Why would you think you would need practice? Are you expecting to be attacked here in school?"

Umbridge laughed at that.

"I know you have had prior instructors who were reckless and utterly irresponsible in their use of magic. This is one of the things the Minister wished to change for the sake of the school's reputation".

"Yes, but what of the outside, once we graduate?"

"You are aware of what is in your text, are you not?"

"Yes, Professor, I've read the book"

"Is that so, Miss Granger? Then perhaps you can tell us what Mr. Slinkhard has to say in Chapter 15?"

"He wrote that the term 'counter-jinx' was inappropriate and that people made it up as a euphemism to justify their use of jinxes. It's clear he doesn't approve of jinxes, but I disagree. A good jinx can get you out of a lot of trouble when used defensively".

It was obvious that Umbridge wasn't expecting Hermione to have an actual answer.

"Tell me, my dear, how old are you?"

"I'm fifteen, soon to be sixteen".

"So, a fifteen year old girl who hasn't even taken her OWLs dares to disagree with a distinguished and published scholar? Tut, tut, tut, _Defensive Magical Theory_ is a Ministry approved text. Who do you think you are to disagree with Mr. Slinkhard and the Ministry? Mr. Slinkhard's opinion is the only one that counts here. Ten points from Gryffindor for unnecessary class interruption. You would be well advised to check your youthful arrogance at the door, Miss Granger".

"Yes, Professor".

"I do realize that there are some unfortunate rumours in circulation about a certain Dark Lord. I can assure you that Voldemort has been gone for fourteen years now; his followers are still incarcerated in Azkaban. He is no longer a threat to anyone. Before him, there was Gellert Grindelwald, but that was back in the 1940s – way before your time. The threat of dark wizards is grossly exaggerated by irresponsible elements serving their own agendas. That Voldemort is back and a threat is a lie..."

"It's not a lie! I was there! I saw him come back!" Umbridge had finally gotten to him. Between Umbridge, what 'anonymous sources' said about him, what the _Daily Prophet_'s hack writers wrote, it was finally too much.

"Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this outburst?! You will sit down this instant, before you cost your House even more points. Voldemort is gone, and that is all there is to it. You won the Tri-wizard Cup: isn't that enough fame for you?"

"It isn't about attention-seeking, Professor, what about Cedric Diggory? What of his memor...", Harry tried to explain reasonably.

"Mr. Potter! That was an unfortunate accident. The Ministry has investigated and made its ruling. Since you persist, another ten points from Gryffindor, and you will see me after class for detention. Now sit down, and don't disrupt this class again! Am I making myself clear here, Mr. Potter?"

"Crystal, Professor".

"I will have no further interruptions in my class", Umbridge announced. "Between Miss Granger and Mr Potter, I am doubling the homework assignment to make up for the time they have cost us.

"Now, wands away, your books and quills out. Let's finally begin today's lesson..."

_Dumbledore's Office_

"You wanted to see me, Professor?", Jadin asked as he arrived at Dumbledore's offices.

"Do come in. I've been going over your records. Your professors speak highly of your work. OWL quality, so they tell me. I wasn't expecting this, and I am pleased you are fitting in so well".

"So far, I'm finding the classes enjoyable, I have a terrific room mate..."

"That would be Mr. Sedgewick?"

"Yes, and the other Ravenclaws have been quite friendly... and that's the problem. I'm not feeling any too good about deceiving them".

"I see".

"It's this living a lie, having to trick them into believing I'm something I'm not when they offer honest friendship. I hate it".

"I'm not surprised you do, and I would be disappointed if you did not. I'm afraid that it _is_ necessary, otherwise, I wouldn't ask this of you. There are those who have problems with our students of mixed parentage..."

"Mudbloods".

"I see you've encountered the term. There are those reactionary elements..."

"Draco Malfoy".

"...who would never come to tolerate your being here under any circumstances. This would put me in an untenable position within the Ministry. Should Hogwart's fall under their control, the muggle-born, like Miss Granger and Mr. Sedgewick, and those who have one muggle parent, the half-bloods, would suffer the most, and have the most to lose. That probably includes a good many of your new friends in Ravenclaw. I wouldn't under estimate your new friends, as I believe that when the truth comes out, they will understand. However, this must wait for its own good time, Mr. Weston. I trust you haven't mentioned this to anyone?"

"No one outside of Potter and Company, no".

"I hope I've been helpful in giving you some new perspective".

"You have, thanks".

"I'm always available for _all_ my students".

_Care of Magical Creatures_

"Did you remember to turn it off?", Hermione quietly asked Jadin as they were heading for today's Care of Magical Creatures class and she slipped her hand into his.

"Yep", he replied.

Hagrid was standing by a makeshift table made of planks and saw horses: "Gather roun'", he invited the arriving students. Among them, Draco Malfoy, his two pals, Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson - the female version of Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy. It was unavoidable, this scheduling, and Jadin didn't need his digivice alerting.

He saw what looked like simply piles of loose twigs and small piles that looked like grains of wild rice: that was all that was on the table. As he was wondering what was so special about this, the "twigs" began to move, revealing themselves to be small, anthropomorphic figures. Small knobby legs, and arms, each hand tipped with two sharp claws looking more like tiny branches off their twig arms. The faces flat, the skin looking like bark, and with two, shiny, deep brown eyes.

"They look like Fresh...", he felt a sharp jab to the ribs as Hermione simultaneously raised her right hand. Since most of the other girls were squealing in surprise, and Draco and his pals were cutting up in class again by mocking Hermione and Harry, she hoped that comment went unheard and unnoticed.

"Yes, Miss Hermione", Hagrid asked. "Do yerrnow whah dey are?"

"Bowtruckles: they are guardians of trees, especially trees whose wood is of wand making quality", she explained.

"Qui'e rye", Miss Hermione, an' fie p'ints fer Gryffinderr.

"Mr. Jadin", he asked a follow up question, "Kin yer tellus whuh dey eat?"

"Wood lice, mostly, though they prefer fairy eggs".

"Wouldyer kinsidderem dang'rous?"

"Not normally, but they _will_ attack and try to blind you if you try to cut down their trees. Kinda like miniature Earth First-ers".

"Correk, Mr. Jadin, an fie p'ints fer Ravenclaw. When gath'rin' sticks or even leaves from a tree inhabited by these guys, yer hafta distrakem with wood lice. Otherwye, yer coul' lose an eye.

"Get some wood lice, an' break up inter groups of t'ree. Studiem, an' prepare a diagram of a bowtruckle, with all 'natomy propelly labeled".

Hermione, Harry and Jadin accidentally on purpose formed a group. They sat close, and as far away from the Slytherin gang as possible.

"You have _got_ to watch comments like that better", Hermione said quietly, but firmly, as she offered a bowtruckle a wood louse. "They may remind you of digimon, but they have nothing in common with digimon".

"Sorry, it just sorta slipped out". And they _do_ look like fresh woodmon - or at least something that should digivolve into woodmon, he thought to himself.

"Don't let stuff like that 'slip out'", she reprimanded. "Be more careful".

"And what was that comment about 'Earth first-ers'? Just answer the damn questions...", Harry added with an unpleasant tone.

"Trying to inject a bit of humour every now and then looks more natural", he disagreed. "Everyone knows I'm not from around here".

"Yes, but you don't have to constantly call attention to that fact", Harry counter argued.

"What's with him?", Jadin asked Hermione as they entered the castle after class. "He's been stuck on pissed off ever since the start of the term"

"Don't mind Harry. It's rough the Fifth Term, what with the upcoming OWLs. It doesn't matter whether you pass them, of course, but for us it's hectic. Our futures are on the line, yannow. There doesn't seem to be enough time for studying, homework, and activities".

"I dunnow, you and Ron seem to be handling it OK".

"Ron and I aren't being vilified nearly every day in the _Prophet,_ called attention-seekers, and liars in front of the whole class, accused of causing another student's death. Ron also mentioned something about bad dreams. All things considered, Harry's handling it rather well, don't you think?"

"I heard about what happened in DADA. I think everyone's heard about that, and are getting a vicarious thrill that someone stood up to Umbridge. I never thought anyone would ever out-do Snape in the most unpopular professor competition. Not too sure that was a smart thing to do, however".

"Yeah..."

"You seem a bit more distracted today than usual?", Jadin asked.

"We have a Hogsmeade Weekend coming up, and I was wondering... you have any plans?"

"Not really".

"Maybe you could come with me? I'd like to show you Hogsmeade. After all, it is the only purely wizarding town".

"I'd like for you to show me Hogsmeade".

"There was one other favour I'd like to ask".

"Ask away".

"Could you do a write-up for me? Explain how it is for a human to get along with a non-human as a partner? You heard about house elves?"

"Yeah, I thought this place was Medieval, and I didn't know how right I was. All that tasty food doesn't taste quite as good".

"I'd like to do something about that, and thought of a Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, S, P, E, W. It would help if I could get a Mentor's perspective, and if you know of other Mentors..."

"Even if I did, I couldn't contact them: no Internet".

"If you would, please?"

"Sure, I'll get something for you. Hope it does some good... Although I'd suggest a different acronym. Spew just doesn't sound right".

"I'd appreciate it".

Jadin and Hermione didn't notice Ron's noticing.


	8. Harry's Detention

**8) Harry's Detention**

The morning owls came as always to deliver mail before breakfast. An envelope dropped to the table in front of Jadin. He saw that it was from his father. At least he was able to send and receive owlposts, same as the parents of the muggle-born.

"From your Dad?", Luna Lovegood asked.

Luna Lovegood was the daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, most well known as the publisher of a decidedly strange tabloid, _The Quibbler._ Its pages were filled with articles, mostly about Xeno's pet obsession: fantastical animals. The rest, the same sort of gossip found in such tabloids, though about Ministry officials and Quiddich players.

Luna had a habit of wearing odd clothing and jewelry. She talked about strange things, she claimed that the carriages were drawn by these peculiar black horses no one could see. Noone believed her, given her father's preoccupation with animals that didn't exist. Other kids, even Ravenclaws, teased her and pranked her, like hiding her shoes. Nothing got to her, and she went barefoot for two days until the culprits relented and showed her where they'd hidden her shoes.

Looney Luna, as she was frequently called, and Jadin got along quite well.

"Yep, that's the hardest part: no phone or webcam contact. How does your father deal with it?"

"He knew already. He attended himself, yannow".

"Still, I find it inconvenient".

"You'll get used to it. We all do. You should've seen what a homesick First Year I was".

"Oh well, no sense complaining about it"

"I thought that's what you were doing".

As Jadin joined the line of students, Professor McGonagall slipped him an excuse note and told him Dumbledore wanted to see him. He headed in the opposite direction, towards the gargoyle that guarded the spiral stairs. It was obvious he was expected since the gargoyle slid aside without question or challenge. He stepped onto the step, and rode the peculiar spiral escalator to the office complex. A light tap with the gryphon shaped knocker.

"Come in, m'boy", Dumbledore invited from the other side of the closed doors.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"Yes, I wanted to ask: how is the Digital World governed?"

"The Digital World has what you might call a 'Federated Monarchy'", he explained. "It's governed by the Four Holy Beasts: Ebonwumon, Baihumon, Zhuqiaomon, and Qinglongmon. The latter seems to be the leader of the Holy Beasts. Each governs their own sector of the Digital World. They have a Pact of Non-interference between themselves, and don't get involved in each other's affairs. For the most part, they leave their subjects alone to manage their affairs as they see fit.

"These Holy Beasts are the most evolved digimon, and it seemed fitting that they would lead. This arrangement was selected after a series of disastrous attempts to govern the Digital World. The first occurred after Lucemon put an end to the constant warfare between the anthroform digimon and the zooform digimon. He started out as an enlightened lawgiver, and was proclaimed emperor of the Digital World. This was a position for which he never asked, and which he accepted reluctantly.

"At first, Lucemon's reign was that of an enlightened monarch. However, he grew drunk with the power he never sought, and his rule grew ever more tyrannical and arbitrary. He was eventually over thrown by the Ten Legendary Warriors. They selected from their ranks: Seraphimon, Ophanimon, and Cherubimon to rule as a triumvirate. They believed that by having three rulers, they would check one another, to prevent any one from becoming too powerful.

"This didn't work out. We don't know if it was paranoia, being that Cherubimon was the only zooform who believed the two anthroform rulers were plotting against him, or if it was a case of power madness. Maybe it was both? Anyway, Cherubimon over threw and imprisoned Seraphimon and Ophanimon.

"This was the first occasion of co-operation between the worlds. Lady Ophanimon reached out to the Material World for help. Five kids were selected on merit to receive the five uncorrupted spirits of the Legendary Warriors. They fought and defeated Cherubimon and later Lucemon who was using Cherubimon to escape from the deepest depths of the digital World where he was imprisoned.

"The resulting power vacuum was filled by King Yggdrasil. He, too, became so corrupt with power that his praetorian guard, the Royal Knights, eventually turned against him, and overthrew him. Part of that battle was fought here in the Material World, right in the streets of Tokyo, causing much damage.

"Having had bad experiences with autocratic rule, the Holy Beasts decided that there would be no one ruler over the whole of the Digital World. They divided the Digital World into four spheres of influence. This way, they hoped that no one Holy Beast would become too powerful. So far, it seems to be working just fine".

"I see", Dumbledore replied. "Would these Holy Beasts be willing to enter into an alliance against Voldemort?"

"The Holy Beasts don't seem to be interested in the affairs of humans. There's also another problem..."

"And that would be?"

"You are so extremely tech-adverse that I highly doubt they even know you exist".

"Would they oppose Voldemort?"

"Only if they believed that he posed a threat to the Digital World".

"Is there a possibility that these digimon would fight with Voldemort?"

"I highly doubt that. Does he even know that digimon exist? Even if he does, the Holy Beasts aren't gonna fight for another 'Lucemon' (finger quotes). Digimon have had enough bad experiences with his type".

"What if he promised them something? Protection from human interference, perhaps?"

"Take an offer made in bad faith? I don't think so. The Holy Beasts didn't get to where they are now by being that naive. No one's gonna put one over on Qinglongmon".

"If there were to be an alliance, how would it be arranged?"

"First, you would need to convince the Holy Beasts that there was a threat to their world. Then they might be willing to help out. Of course, someone would have to go to the Digital World and meet with them. That would mean getting an audience, but that's not gonna be easy".

"Oh... Why is that?"

"You know how it is: the Holy Beasts are always getting requests for audiences from all over the Digital World for all sorts of reasons. Not too different from the P.M. and the Queen, is it?"

"No, I don't suppose it is", Dumbledore agreed. "Could these digimon defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"

"Impmon kicked dementor ass, remember. He wasn't supposed to be able to do that. You said so yourself".

"That's true. That will be all for now", Dumbledore dismissed Jadin.

"What did he want this time?", Harry caught up to Jadin.

"He asked about the Digital World, how it was governed".

"Did he say why?"

"Not in so many terms., but he hinted at a possible alliance with the Digimon Sovereign against Hewhomustnotbenamed."

"And I suppose he wants _you_ to negotiate it?"

"Not that he said".

"I don't get it: he's always calling you in for meetings, and he won't even speak to me!"

"Because I'm the new kid in school? That's all he asked about before: how'm I doing, do I like my classes, do I need extra help – that sort of thing. Now that you mention it, he did seem rather incurious about Impmon and the Digital World... I don't know what to tell you..."

"The next time you see him, could you ask for me?"

"I can ask, but I don't think it'll do any good. Dumbledore plays his cards very close to the vest".

Jadin headed for the common room, with a hall pass, why waste it? Septima could get by without him today.

_Dear Jadin:_

_I still don't quite understand what trouble these digimon have gotten you into this time. I hope you're doing well at Hogwart's, though I would like it better if we could talk, and not have to depend on owls. Got your last letter, and I'm glad for you that your instructors think you're doing well, and I take it that "OWL (whatever that is) quality" work is speaking most highly. I do wish that this "education" had some sort of practical value._

_I still haven't told your mother what you are doing. So far as she knows, you're attending a regular boarding school, though she doesn't quite understand why she can't phone you. Is there any possibility you could find a phone somewhere? It would be good to hear from you, and would reassure your mother._

_Love,_

_Your Father_

"Letter from home?", Horace asked.

"Yeah", he sighed. "Still hasn't told Mom yet. I'm gonna have to find some way to call her before she freaks completely".

"He hasn't told her? Why?"

"Think about it: how do you explain that you sent your muggle son to a boarding school way out in the Scottish hinterlands – a school no one can see, let alone visit. A school whose only purpose is training up the next generation of wizards and witches, who aren't supposed to exist other than as fictional characters, myths and legends".

"I keep forgetting".

"Anyway, I guess I'll have to find some way to call her. Maybe during the Hogsmeads outing?"

"No phones there either, it's a total wizarding town. Even the muggles don't know it exists. Nearest place would be Dufftown".

"I'll have to see if I can visit, even if I have to sneak out".

"That's not gonna be easy".

"I have it covered. I have my own and-bray of agic-may".

"You'll have to show me that sometime".

"As soon as we have some ivacy-pray".

"So what're you doin' now?", he asked.

"I need to get that permission slip for Hogsmeade signed, then drop by to see how Hagrid's doin'".

Horace understood what he really meant. He couldn't say it because they weren't by themselves this time.

"Anyway, I'm off to Transfiguration. You up for a game after supper? I need to get even for last night"

"Sure, any time you are".

_Hagrid's Cabin_

"Hagrid around?", Jadin asked.

"He went off into the forest".

"He didn't take you?"

"He said he was checking on Aragon; I wasn't invited"

"Aragon?"

"This acromantula he raised from an egg back when he was a student, before it got him kicked out. Nasty fuckers, worse than dokugumon, even, and I didn't think it possible. He'll feed anyone who isn't Hagrid to his children. Nearly got Harry and Ron a couple years back, and that was after he well knew they were friends of Hagrid. If it hadn't been for this flying car Ron borrowed from his father, they'd've been spider shit".

"Why would he..."

"Hagrid never met a critter he didn't like. Some day, I'll tell you his story about the illegal dragon eggs... but that's not what I wanted to talk about, now that you're here".

"Oh?"

"Yeah, hasn't it occurred to you that Dumbledore's using you?"

"I... yeah, but I don't... Everyone speaks so highly of him"

"Who, exactly? Snape? McGonagall? They work for him, so what else would you expect them to say?"

"Harry? Hermione?"

"Harry: who sees his Headmaster as a surrogate father-figure. Yeah, there's an objective assessment for-ya. Hermione and Ron and the others? They'd follow Harry right off a cliff, and we both know it... Has he asked about the Digital World yet?"

"Earlier today..."

"I thought as much. Let me guess, he wants an alliance. I say we blow this place..."

"I thought you liked Hagrid?"

"Hagrid's not the problem. I don't trust that Dumbledore: he's a duplicitous bastard if ever I met one. Sure, he invites you here to Hogwart's, makes you feel all welcome and shit, even if you can't cast your way out of a wet paper bag... _None _of it feels right".

"That may be so, but what about Hewhomustnotbenamed..."

"They even got you talking like they do! You been hanging around them too damn long. How can Voldemort threaten the Digital World? What's he gonna do? He'd be facing ten thousand Megas and he'd be just so many dust packets before he ever knew what hit him.. He's no threat..."

"How about the Material World? He's been threatening muggles..."

"According to who, exactly? Dumbledore? Of course he'd say that! He wants you to do his dirty work for him! If his Ministry of Magic won't do their damn job, how's that any skin off _your_ nose? Or mine?"

Impmon shook his head: "You are not one of them".

"No, of course, I'm not... but I'm also not convinced we don't have a common cause here. If we do, then we'll know soon enough. If we don't, then they're on their own".

The door swung open; Fang bounded into the room. Hagrid was back.

"Jadin, what brings yeh here?"

"Professor..."

"No need ter call me p'fesser onna social call".

"Just dropped by to see Impmon".

"Shouldn-ya be in class?"

"Ehhhh, why waste a perfectly good excuse pass? One less class, one less chance I'll be discovered".

"Aye, I canna argue widdat... Now that yeh's here, how boud a cuppa herbal tea?"

"Sounds good. You do have some of the best herbal tea I've ever tasted".

"Aye, thank ye fer sain so".

Hagrid set the kettle on to boil as he prepared to make the tea.

They settled down around the table: "Tis uh sad t'ing", Hagrid sighed.

"Huh?", Jadin asked.

"Aragon, I'm afeared he's gettin' on in years. Doannow how much longer he'll be widdus".

"How long have you known him?"

"He be pushin forddy. Yannow thas how I got espelled? Back when Tom Riddle was here, 'cused me uv op'nin the Chamber of Secrets, an Aragon uv be-in ter Beast uv Slytherin. I couldna betray him an so I wuz espelled. Ter P'fesser gimme ter game keeper job an layder ter Care of Magical Critters p'fessership".

"That doesn't seem the least bit fair. After all, I thought the Beast was a snake, not a spider? Isn't that the Slytherin logo?"

"Aye, thass awl troo, but ter Mins'try doan see ih thah way. Nuttin ter doo bouddit".

_Dolores Umbridge's Office_

"Ummm...", Harry started as he arrived that evening after supper, "I was wondering if you could make a minor adjustment to the detention schedule?"

"Adjustment, whatever are you talking about?"

"I would like to be excused this Friday, Quiddich practice..."

"Tut, tut, tut – detention wouldn't be punishment if it were at your convenience, Mr. Potter, would it? You do know, deep down, that you deserve this".

He bit his tongue at that.

"What would you have me do?", he asked.

"You will be doing lines for me", as she indicated a small writing table with parchment and a quill.

He seated himself: "You will write 100 times: I must not tell lies".

"You gave me the paper and quill, but there's no ink", he observed as he picked up the quill. It was less of a quill and more like a fountain pen, with a grip, a sharp nib, and a black feather. The whole quill was black.

"You won't be needing ink, Mr. Potter. Now, if you will begin".

Harry had no choice. He began and saw that this quill was a self-inking that wrote in red ink.

By the fifth line, he became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his writing hand. By the tenth line, this discomfort had become a definite cutting sensation. By the twentieth, he saw to his horror the same words he'd written appear in angry red letters on the back of his writing hand. If he stopped writing, the letters disappeared, but left a redness. It was then he realized where the "ink" was coming from: he was writing in his own blood.

"Did I tell you to stop, Mr. Potter?" Umbridge asked as she looked up from her own work.

"No, ma'am".

The longer he wrote, the longer it took for the lettering he was carving into his hand to disappear. By the time he'd completed the assignment, it was excruciating.

"I did it: 100 lines", he said as he finished.

Umbridge looked at his hand: "I'm not making much of an impression on you. We'll try again tomorrow. That will be all, Mr. Potter". The lettering was already fading, the back of his writing hand just red, and the pain down to a dull ache.

"Yes, ma'am", he said with forced courtesy to avoid pissing her off even more.

_Ravenclaw Common Room_

"Jadin, you there?", he heard the knock on the door, and recognized the voice. He went to open the door.

"Hermione, what a pleasant surprise".

There were no rules against anyone from Gryffindor – or any other House – dropping by for a visit to the Ravenclaw common room. It just didn't happen all that often, cross-house visitation. It was also why she knocked, though she could have solved whatever word puzzle the eagle-shaped door knocker could give her: she wasn't in Ravenclaw.

"Don't you have DADA now?"

"I'm skiving"

It took him a moment to process that expression: "So you're ditching? That's not your style, and won't Umbridge be pissed?"

"No, I have that covered".

"You'll have to show me how you do that sometime".

"It wouldn't do you much good, but the next time you're in the library, you could look up 'Time Turner'. Anyway, I wanted your thoughts on something".

"Oh?"

"You heard about what a fiasco DADA has become?"

"Yeah, no lab work, just book-learnin', and none too effective. Everyone's talking about it".

"I heard... never mind how I heard, but the reason for that is Fudge doesn't want any of us learning combat. He thinks the Professor is going to use DADA to raise a student army to take over the Ministry. That's why he sent Umbridge to spy and sabotage DADA".

"Interesting... and is he?"

"No! Of course not! The Professor could have had the Minister's office several times over. He has no political ambitions beyond Hogwart's and trying to get the Ministry to take seriously that Hewhomustnotbenamed has returned".

"OK, so why are you here?"

"I have an idea: what if we met unofficially to train ourselves? I was thinking of asking Harry to teach us?"

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, Harry knows how to cast a Patronus".

"Not that I could see, he doesn't. Impmon and I had to pull his chestnuts out of that fire, that's why we're here now".

"At least he's done it, that's more than any of us have done".

"I'm still not seeing a point here? If you want to do an end run around Umbridge, you have my blessings".

"I was thinking of calling a planning meeting during the Hogsmeade outing, and I'd like for you to be there".

"What do you think I can do?"

"Tell them about Impmon, about digimon".

"Excuse me?"

"It would be a big help, if everyone knew we weren't completely alone. If we knew we had allies..."

"You're asking me to make a promise I may not be able to fulfill. I can't guarantee the Digimon Sovereign will make any such agreement. I can't even guarantee the Sovereign would grant an audience. Besides, I'd say that the opposite is true, that they won't get involved. After all, this is human business – doesn't involve them".

"You don't have to promise, just say it's a possibility. What about the other Mentors? Wouldn't they help, even if the Sovereign say no?"

"I don't know there are other Mentors here. I'm guessing there are, but I don't know for sure".

"You can tell us that too. I'm not asking you to lie, or say anything you're not comfortable in saying".

"Let me ask you a question"

"What is it?"

"Just how trustworthy is Dumbledore anyway?"

"How could you ask..."

"From what I've seen, what you and Ron have told me, what little Harry has told me, I wonder about that relationship. Dumbledore stuck Harry with his aunt and uncle, on the borderline of abuse, and did nothing about that. Doesn't that seem just a tad odd?"

"Not really. Harry had to stay with a blood relative to continue receiving the protection his mother's sacrifice gave him".

"For all those years when he really didn't need any protecting since Whatshisname was completely powerless?"

"There were the Death Eaters..."

"Most of whom are still doing time in Azkaban..."

"But not all, they weren't all caught, and the Professor didn't know _when_ he'd return, just_ that_ he would return".

"And Dumbledore _never _thought to grab Uncle Vernon by the lapels, slam him up against a wall and tell him that the next time he treats Harry like shit he'll turn him and Dudders into toads or something? All those years? Really? Where was all that fatherly concern all those years?

"Doesn't it look like the perfect way to turn Harry into his personal cat's paw? Put him in an abusive, loveless environment, then become the surrogate father-figure, and is there any limit to what he'd do for Dumbledore?"

"I can't believe you're saying that! The Professor _loves_ Harry! Look, Jadin, we – all of us – have been with Harry and the Professor since we were First Years. If there was anything like that, we'd've seen it before now. We trust him with our lives".

"That's what worries me. He's not the Second Coming: he's a man like any other, and no one deserves blind trust..."

"It's not like that. If he were to pull something, I'd be the first to call him out. And he knows it. He wouldn't do anything to hurt us, I can assure you. Why do you ask? What brought this on?"

"I was wondering: why am I here where I obviously don't belong, where I have to constantly deceive those who call me friend? I can't help but wonder: does he just want our fighting ability to serve his cause, noble though it may or may not be?"

"If he said he brought you here to protect you, then that's why he brought you here. You can believe that. He can't go announcing he brought a muggle and some strange creature we haven't heard of before to Britain's premiere wizarding school. You can't appreciate what an offense against the International Law of Secrecy that is. He's risking _everything _to help you! Why do you doubt him?"

"I can't help it: I question everything".

"I understand, and it's not a bad thing, but this is one thing you can stop questioning. The Professor is a great wizard, and, more importantly, a great man... Will you help?"

"It ain't much, but I'll do what I can".

"Great. There was one other thing".

"And that is?"

"You know Luna Lovegood?"

"Uh-huh".

"And that her dad publishes _The Quibbler_?"

"Yes, she mentioned that".

"I have a line on this writer – you don't know her – Rita Skeeter. She did that hack job on Harry during the Tri-wizard Tournament, but she's been unemployed ever since _The Prophet_ fired her. Anyway, it turns out that she's an unregistered animagus. I'd like for her to meet with Harry in Hogsmeade, do an interview about what happened during the tournament. Could you ask Luna if she'd ask her father to publish it?"

"You'd blackmail her?"

"Only if I had to. It's the only way to get the story out. Fudge isn't going to do anything, and _The Daily Prophet_ serves his interests, so they'll never publish anything that contradicts what he wants everyone to believe".

"I can ask, but from what Luna's told me, her old man isn't interested in those kinds of stories".

"I think he'll be interested in this one".

"I'll ask; no guarantees"

"Thanks, and none expected".


	9. Hogsmeade Outing

**9) Hogsmeade Outing**

Jadin decided to use his free time to get that write-up he promised Hermione done. Give it to her before the outing to Hogsmeade.

_Back in the day, I got into the whole digimon thing: Digimon Adventure, "Zero Two", collecting the cards, playing the games, video as well as the card game with my friends. I was like a lot of kids in that regard._

_I'll always remember that day. It started out like any other morning. Up at 8:00, off to school, the usual. The only odd occurrence was the sudden failure of all the computers in the Comp Lab. It wasn't just there either, but every system in the whole school._

_The weather was strange, lots of wind and lightening, but no rain. When I got home, everything: the microwave, TV, my computer, Mom and Dad's – everything had crashed. Not just at home either, but everywhere. They said it was some sort of electrical surge, they had no other possible explanation. After resetting everything, the 'rents are strictly "blinking 12:00 people, I went upstairs to do my homework._

_I took out my scientific calculator, and that's when it happened: it felt especially warm, then began to glow as if white hot. I was tempted to drop it, as my hand was tingling. I had no idea what caused this, but I couldn't let go for some reason. Right before my eyes, it changed into something quite different. At first, my main thought was: "Terrific, and I have Algebra homework to do". I wondered if this new thing would still work as a calculator, but when I turned it on, the whole room filled with white "smoke" though there were no flames, nothing smelled like it was burning. I then noticed that it was getting awfully bright, almost too bright to see. There appeared a dark smudge in all that whiteness. As I watched, it looked like something was coming towards me. More details appeared, and now looked like someone was walking towards me._

_The "smoke" cleared just as mysteriously as it had appeared. There he was: an honest-to-God Impmon, standing right there in my bedroom._

_The first thing he said was: "No, you're not going mad, I'm very much real"._

_I asked how was this possible, and that's when he explained he'd come from the Digital World, and that I had a digivice and we were to be partners. I didn't feel like I'd just gone nuts, and I suppose it takes longer, doesn't it? I never thought they really existed. Impmon explained about how digimon came to be: created by these comp-sci students as a project in artificial life. How they were programmed to fight for survival and evolve, just like real animals, but at a much faster rate. How the project got no grants or funding, and that it was ultimately abandoned._

_The project was eventually picked up by a video game company, the digimon turned into game characters. All the while, they kept following their original imperative: to evolve. This they did to the point of becoming self aware entities, and then to the point where they can appear here in the Material World as fully physical beings. He then explained that more digimon would be coming, but that some might be feral or destructive. It would be my responsibility to help him evolve to counter any threats coming from the Digital World, in order that these feral digimon and trouble makers wouldn't screw it up for those who came to establish good relations with their human creators._

_I figured honesty was the best policy here, and so introduced Mom and Dad to Impmon. They were freaked, of course, at first but quickly came to accept him. They weren't so thrilled to learn about the inevitable digibattles. Digimon attract other digimon, as that was part of the original programming. We had our share, as did the other Mentors, as we came to call ourselves. That, too, is part of what we do: help our partner digimon adjust to the ways of the Material World._

_As far as the Anime is concerned, it turned out that Japanese intelligence had discovered the reality of the Digital World. What do you do if you know these weird creatures are going to begin appearing? To prevent mass panic, they came up with the whole digimon thing. That way, once they were seen, people, or at least their kids, would recognize them, know who and what they were. So what we Mentors are dealing with is some sort of advance force, perhaps sent to reconnoiter how they will be accepted. You may wonder why kids? Well, who's doing all the fanart, writing the fanfic, going to the discussion boards, and so forth? Not many adults, right? So who would they most likely be familiar with, who would they see as partners?_

_As for what the relationship is, digimon aren't our pets, nor our servants. Believe me, Impmon wouldn't put up with that for very long before you got a Night of Fire right between the eyes. We work together, and Impmon is my friend. That's why we're still together after almost two years since his arrival. Digimon are quite friendly for the most part, and Impmon's been the best friend I've ever had, or ever likely will have._

_How he looks, that he isn't 'human', doesn't really matter... to either of us. Differences are only skin deep, and as Impmon once put it: the body is only a cantainer. What matters is the contents._

"I hope that's helpful", he thought to himself.

_Slytherin Common Room_

Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson had the common room to themselves. Draco had ordered everyone else out. Being that he was Lucius Malfoy's son, they left. It wasn't a good career move, getting on Lucius' bad side, especially for Slytherins.

"There's something decidedly odd about that new kid", Draco addressed the group. "Have you noticed? The way he always seems to be walking past Potter or his friends as if they were just talking? Only we never actually see them talk, like they always know when we're coming?"

"Yeah, we noticed", Goyle, definitely smarter than Crabbe, agreed. "What I can't figure is how. They're not using any sort of charm or other magic. We'd've sensed that by now.

"That's not the only thing I heard. He and his Ravenclaw room mate are always playing some muggle game in the common room. Heard other Ravenclaws talking about it. They can't play normal games for some reason; never play Wizarding Chess or Exploding Snaps".

"What would you expect? His roomie is another mudblood. Those mudbloods always stick together", Draco reminded them.

"He seems to spend a lot of time with those Gryffindores", Crabbe said.

"We already figured that out. Yet, it's like they don't want anyone to know. I bet Dumbledumbass has something to do with that as well".

"He's always being excused from class", Pansy added. "Going to see Dumbledore. More than Potter, these days. Looks like Dumbles has himself a new teacher's pet".

"He also has a thing for Little Miss Question-All", Pansy said. "Not gonna sit well with Weasel King".

"Pretty damned obvious", Draco theorized. "You know his new pet would be another mudblood, besides, he's a _foreigner_", extra emphasis of contempt on "foreigner". "I'm not surprised Dumbledumbass got himself a new pet to replace Potter. I'm only surprised it took this long. Father always said Dumbledumbass was the worst thing that ever happened to Hogwart's. He's determined to fill the whole school with mudbloods, and now foreigners".

"I also heard that that overgrown oaf is also hiding something", Goyle announced. "Do you suppose there's a connection?"

"Try to find out what he's hiding and be discreet about it, if you're smart enough to know what that means. Pansy, keep an eye on that new kid. I don't think he'd suspect you. There's definitely something going on, and I want to know what it is".

"How about your father?'" Crabbe asked. "Could he mention it to Fudge?"

"Not without more to go on. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut for now. When we know more, then we'll figure out what to do".

_Ravenclaw Dorms_

"You wanted to see how this works", Jadin whispered to Horace as he motioned to the door leading to the common room. Both were already dressed and ready to go. It was 1:00AM, and fortunately, no one was up, especially not the Prefect. It was illegal to be out after "lights" out.

"You're taking a hell of a chance. We'll probably miss out on Hogsmeade", Horace whispered just outside the common room.

"Regardless, I have to phone Mom; it's been driving her crazy", Jadin explained.

"OK, how do we do this?"

"Don't mention what you are about to see", Jadin warned as he took out his digivice. He clicked on its drop down menu, and selected Marauder's Map. The splash screen appeared, followed by the map.

"Hell'd you get that?", Horace asked. "Who're Prongs, Padfoot, and the rest?"

"Harry's father and his friends: Prongs was James, Moony: Remus Lupin, Wormtail: Peter Pettigrew, and Padfoot was Sirius Black. They called themselves the "Marauders" while they were here. I borrowed the map from Harry. That's how we get out, and hopefully, we won't be missed. Lead the way".

"Lumos", Horace lit his wand.

"Snape", Jadin warned as they were approaching a crossing corridor.

"Nox", Horace extinguished the light as they hid in the shadows.

Snape paused, looking down the hallway. Had he seen, did he suspect? He went on, and disppeared down another corridor.

"Now where?", Horace asked as they took one of the hidden passages leading outside.

"Hagrid's. Meet up with Impmon", he explained. "Then the Shrieking Shack".

Jadin gave a soft whistle, and Impmon came out of the fringe of the Forbidden Forest where he was waiting.

"How we get through that?", Impmon asked as they arrived at the Whomping Willow.

"Not a problem", Horace said.

"Wingardium Leviosa", he cast the spell of levitation, sending a small pebble to hit the knot hole at the base of the tree that acted as an "off switch", stilling the flaying branches.

"Home free", he said. The passage hidden among the roots led straight to the Shrieking Shack, said to be the most haunted house in Great Britain. It was also convenient for assignations, sneaking into Hogsmeade for those without passes, and First Years who weren't supposed to attend the periodic outings. It was an open secret: students pretended to be fooling the faculty, and the faculty pretended they were putting one over.

The passage itself was very narrow, twisting, and utterly creepy. It looked as though it got a lot less traffic than it actually did. At the end of an uphill incline, they came to the door that opened into the Shrieking Shack itself. There was no one around, and, so far, nothing to indicate the house's nick.

"Dufftown's the closest", Jadin said, so that's where we should go and hope there's a pay phone". They were gathered outside, on a hill overlooking Hogsmeade.

"How far?", Impmon asked.

"Not that far, but I'm afraid we're going to need some assistance here".

"Leave it to me".

"Super evolution Plug-in S", Jadin scanned the card.

_Impmon evolve! …_

… **KYUUBIMON_Ag!**

"God... damn", Horace said. "I never thought I'd ever see it for real". Horace, like Jadin, had seen all the Animes, and knew about digivolution. Though not accomplished in such a manner.

"Climb aboard and hang on", Kyuubimon invited.

It was about a half-hour or so gallop to Dufftown. Like many small towns, there was very little activity.

"Now, hope no one sees", Jadin was saying.

"I have that covered", Horace said as he cast the Disillusionment Charm.

"Mom?"

"It's good to hear from you too..."

"I would'a called sooner, but there's the time difference. It's past 1:00AM here..."

"I don't exactly have phone access..."

"No, I'm calling from off campus..."

"This boarding school, it's Medieval themed: no phones. In a real honest-to-god castle. We wear those funky scholar's robes like you see in the movies, use quills and ink pots, no modern equipment allowed..."

"Me and Dad received an invitation for me to attend..."

"It's a real honour, you see, not many students are accepted..."

"What's it called? Hogwart's..."

("Don't tell her the name!")

("I couldn't think of anything else")

"Nothing... just my roomie wanting to know how much longer I'll be..."

"You'll see when you come; there are parental visiting days..."

"Love you too. Bye".

"Hold on, Impmon wants to say something..."

"Don't you worry, I'm lookin' out for my partner..."

"You're welcome... I'm staying with the grounds keeper..."

"No, he ain't got no problems with digimon. He already knew who we are..."

"If you can get here by Christmas, you'll see both of us soon enough..."

"Love you too..."

"And when she looks up Hogwart's and finds nothing?", Horace objected.

"And when she doesn't find the name of the fictitious Medieval themed boarding school, no difference. I'll burn that bridge when I come to it", Jadin explained. "Anyway, we'd best be gettin' back".

Mission accomplished, as Jadin and Horace successfully slipped unseen back into the Ravenclaw dorms.

_Hogwart's: Great Hall_

That next morning, the students were delayed for class, being told that there would be a special announcement after breakfast. No one had a clue as to what this was about until Dumbledore announced that Professor Umbridge would be addressing the students.

Umbridge took his place at the owl shaped podium:

"The Minister is greatly concerned with the lax and falling standards here at Hogwart's", she began her announcement. "The state of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes concerns him especially. With the exception of the unfortunate Professor Quirell, none of your professors would meet the Ministry's educational standards. There has been too much irresponsible use of magic, unnecessarily endangering the students. We have seen Gilderoy Lockhart attain the Professorship by fraud, Barty Crouch becoming a teacher while impersonating Alistair Moody, and using Unforgivables in class. Remus Lupin deliberately concealed his lycanthropic condition, thereby placing all of you in danger. This will not do, oh my no.

"Therefore, the Minister has issued Educational Decree Number 23 to establish the office of High Inquisitor. Minister Fudge has asked that I accept this new post, and I most humbly accepted..."

"I'll bet she did", Harry whispered to Hermione.

"I knew it all along", she agreed, "they're setting up the Professor; I always knew she was a spy, and now it's out in the open".

"...I shall be auditing your classes, and inspecting your professors. We will do our parts to see that nothing detrimental to our fine Hogwart's tradition of academic excellence is permitted, and I look forward to working closely with your Headmaster in this endeavor".

"Let us all congratulate Professor Umbridge", Dumbledore said from the faculty table at the head of the hall. "I shall do all in my power to give you all due assistance", he promised.

Dumbledore lead in the applause. Once again, he showed that he knew how to play the political game.

"I have taken up enough of your time", he dismissed the students.

Jadin received yet another excuse note from McGonagall.

_Dumbledore's Office Complex_

"Sorry for keeping you waiting", Dumbledore apologized.

"Not a prob", Jadin said.

"You know why I asked you to come here?"

"This 'High Inquisitor' business?"

"Quite. A most disturbing development, but not unexpected, I'm afraid. I must warn you: Professor Umbridge poses a threat, and it would be a very good idea that you avoid her as best you can".

"I have that covered", Jadin said as he pulled out his digivice.

He pulled up the Marauder's Map, located the dot marked Dolores Umbridge, and placed the cursor over it. One click, and her name was added to his watch list.

"I'll know whenever she's near now", he explained. "Same way I've been avoiding Draco and company".

"See that you do nothing to antagonize her", Dumbledore warned. "I did not believe Cornelius would go to such extremes. It looks like I wasn'r as convincing as I'd hoped that I have no designs on his office".

"At least you guys have one thing in common with the Muggle World", Jadin offered.

"Oh?", Dumbledore asked.

"Political games".

"You are unfortunately right", he agreed. "Now, off to class with you".

"One other thing", Jadin asked. "My permission to go on the Hogsmeade outing?"

"Yes, I received your father's permission, but I must confess: I have my doubts about your going".

"I also need to get out for some fun, and Impmon..."

"You need not worry, you shall have your permission".

"Thank you"

"Now be off".

_Hogsmeade_

The students lined up at the main entrance as the Caretaker, Argus Filch, checked off names and verified permission slips. He was always hoping to catch students trying to put one over. This time, no one was trying to pass bogus permission slips, nor did any First Years attempt to sneak out, much to his disappointment.

The weather was getting a bit on the wintry side, gray skies, and a wind with a nip to it. It wouldn't be too much longer until the first snow fall. Some students decided to take a pass, as they were walking into Hogsmeade.

"So you get it?", Hermione asked Jadin as they walked, hand-in-hand.

"Just like I promised", as he handed over the report he'd written.

"Thanks for that", she said, "but I was talking about Luna".

"Oh yeah, that too. She was a bit disappointed that our big news had nothing to do with her father's latest obsession, the Crumple Horned Snorkack, but she says he'll be happy to publish it, if Skeeter's agreeable".

"How do you mean?"

"Xeno doesn't pay royalties up front to free lance writers. Instead, he pays on a sliding scale, depending on how that particular edition does. Luna said he's quite adamant about this, and doesn't want to make any exceptions, lest other writers hear about it and demand up-front royalties. It may be a problem".

"Don't forget: I still have proof Skeeter's an unregistered animagus. She'll agree... You sure he said he would?"

"Xeno has no love for the Ministry in general or Fudge in particular. Even though the _Quibbler_ isn't your standard journal, he's always interested in a story that'll move copy. He knows this is such a story. He'll definitely publish, but it's still up to Rita to accept his terms".

"They'll have to believe Harry and the Professor now... We'll be meeting at the Hog's Head. You sure Impmon's coming?"

"He'll be there. You sure this Hog's Head place is a good idea?"

"The proprietor has a well known reputation for being able to keep his mouth shut, a finely tuned sense of when to look the other way. He has a very dodgy clientèle".

Jadin and Horace spent the spare time at the Three Broomsticks, the usual watering hole for Hogwart's students. Few ever visited the Hog's Head, the sleaziest saloon in Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks had been in continuous operation since the Middle Ages. This was something Jadin needed getting used to: a pub that was older than the fictitious "Cheers" (est. 1895) and even the United States itself. The current proprietor was Madam Rosmerta.

_Hog's Head_

"You're a bit early", Hermione greeted Jadin and Horace.

"How many do you suppose you'll get?", Horace asked.

"Don't know", she explained, "there are so many who think Harry's either mental or an attention seeking liar. I know that's not the case, but if the _Daily Prophet_ says so, there are all too many all too eager to believe it".

By ones and twos, in drifted students from every House but for Slytherin. Hermione wasn't expecting thirty six to show up – a crowd the size of which the Hog's Head seldom ever saw.

"Try some Firewhiskey?", Ron suggested, as this looked like the kind of place that would serve it to the underage students.

"Not today", Hermione reminded, "we'll need clear heads".

"You all know why I invited you here?", she began the meeting. "We aren't being taught proper defense in DADA, and we'll need to know how to fight since, well..."

"I'm still far from convinced he's back", Zacharias Smith of Hufflepuff objected. "We still need to demonstrate that we know defense for our OWLs, and we're not being prepared for that. That's why I'm here".

"That's fine", Hermione explained. "If you have a desire to learn, that's enough. Believe Harry, believe the _Prophet_ and Fudge, that's your business. We're not starting a political campaign or a Harry Potter fan club".

"So is it true?", Seamus Finnigan of Gryffindore asked. They weren't expecting him to bother coming, as he and Harry had had fierce arguments in the common room over the matter of Voldemort's return.

"Yes, it's true", Harry said. "we were transported to the grave yard outside Little Hangleton. It was there that the Death Eater, Peter Pettigrew, performed the ritual that brought him back. It was he who murdered Cedric to eliminate witnesses, and he tried to eliminate me as well. He's back. Regardless of what Fudge wants to believe, he's back. Cedric paid for that knowledge with his life. If that's what you came for, to satisfy your morbid curiosity then you came to the wrong place for all the wrong reasons.

"This is no game, and none of you know what it's like, having to face him, knowing your life is on the line. I wish, for all your sakes, that we could have a proper instructor in defense, and I took a lot of convincing before I agreed to do this. I don't consider myself a master of defense by any means. As Hermione pointed out, I'm the best we have, and that's not a brag. All I can promise is to show you what I know about combat and defense".

"All we're getting from Umbridge is utter bullshit", Lee Jordan of Gryffindore pointed out. "It's more than we're getting now, and I'll take all the help I can get".

"So what do we call ourselves?", Ron Weasley asked.

"I dunnow", Padma Patil replied, "how about 'Defense Alliance', 'Defense Association'?"

"Use the initials: DA", Cho Chang suggested.

"Dumbledore's Army", Ginny Weasley added. "After all, that's what Fudge suspects anyway, and if we get caught, that's what they'll believe no matter what we say".

It was quickly agreed: the new group would call itself Dumbledore's Army, even though Dumbledore wouldn't know about its existence.

Hermione took out a parchment, and wrote the name of the group at the top of the page, and invited everyone interested in signing. "It's important to formalize the initiation", she explained. "Every army needs a roster".

There was some grumbling about this, that it wasn't necessary, that Hermione was being officious. She had developed that reputation as a result of being Gryffindore's Girls' Prefect, though she had other reasons she didn't explain.

"You haven't signed up, Jadin", she offered the quill.

"I didn't think you'd want me".

"Of course we do", she insisted.

"Jadin has something to tell us", she added.

"It's more of a confession, actually. You see, I won't be joining you for defensive magical lessons. There's no easy way to say it, so I'll come straight out with it. I am a muggle..."

There was subdued exclamations of shock and surprise. It probably would have been worse, but for their having to keep a low profile.

"Yes, it's true; it's also true that I am one of a rather select group as I am also what we call the Digimon Mentors".

This was Impmon's cue to make his entrance. More surprises, more comments about what sort of house elf he was, and questions as to what he was doing here.

"Impmon is a digimon, and my partner. The Professor knows all about it, as do Harry and his friends, and my roomie, Horace. We're telling you this in the strictest confidence, and I highly doubt that the Professor would agree. However, I'm not so certain he'd like the idea of a Dumbledore's Army either".

"That's all well and good, but what does this have to do with He-who-must-not-be-named?", came a question.

Once again, Jadin and Impmon related the events of this past summer in Little Whinging, of how they came to be at Hogwart's.

"I'm not promising anything here, understand that. There is a possibility that the Digimon Sovereign, the Four Holy Beasts, may prove to be allies if it comes down to a fight with Whatshisname. He isn't just a threat to this world, but would certainly be interested in subjugating the Digital World should he become aware that that world exists, and he will if he conquers the Muggle World. It's a question if they can be so convinced.

"Your Ministry of Magic has done you no favours in denying that Whatshisname has somehow beat the Grim Reaper, and has returned. All that asshole Fudge has done is given him the time and opportunity to gain that much more strength. Whatshisname may have been your problem, your responsibility, but Fudge's inaction has made him ours. That includes muggles and digimon alike".

"So you've been to this Digital World?"

"Yes, indeed. We'll go again, but I can't promise the Sovereign will even grant us an audience, let alone promise you an alliance. We'll try our best when the time's right, and that's _all_ I can promise".

"Impmon, you haven't signed the membership roster", Hermione reminded.

Impmon signed his name next to Jadin's.

"Are there more digimon here?", another asked.

"I'm sure there are", Jadin explained. "It's just a question of finding them".

"When? How?"

"Now that I don't know. It will depend on what the Professor has planned".

"We'll be needing a place to meet, undisturbed".

"I'll figure something out", Harry promised, not knowing how he was going to accomplish this particular detail just yet.

"If there is no other business?", Hermione asked. There was none.

"OK, then, let us be off. Be very careful that you don't let anything we've discussed here slip out. It could mean expulsion".

Dumbledore's Army numbered 36: more than Hermione expected.

The rest of the day, Hermione fulfilled her promise to show Jadin Hogsmeade. The architecture showed the town's origins in the Middle Ages, established by Hengist of Woodcroft, presumably as a safe haven from muggle persecution. It was also said that Hogsmeade was first settled around the time of the founding of Hogwart's itself. This, however, was ascribed to legend.

Most of the tidy cottages still featured thatched roofs, in keeping with the Wizarding World's obsession with tradition. There was no electrical service, nor these modern conveniences. No cars either, as the residents had no need, nor was the town connected in any way to outlying roads and highways. The only transport was the train station where the Hogwart's Express let off students.

"Wait till you see it around Christmas", Hermione informed him, "they really do the whole town up right".

"We'll have another weekend then?"

"Oh yes, right before we all go home for the holidays".

_Madam Puddifoot's_

"Welcome, welcome", Madam Puddifoot greeted as soon as Jadin and Hermione arrived. "It's so good to see young love", she added in a manner that struck Jadin as being a bit forward. "What can I get for you?"

"Coffee: cream, no sugar", Jadin said. "You?", he asked Hermione.

"Same for me".

"Right this way", Madam Puddifoot showed them to one of the tables.

"So, what do you think?", Hermione asked Jadin after they settled in.

"It's... ummmm... different", he said. "Kinda cute".

"I mean Hogsmeade".

"Very picturesque. We wouldn't have anything like this back in the 'States. Hell, the 'States don't have nearly the history. Nor do we preserve the historicity of our older towns".

"So, you aren't seeing anyone?", she offered tentatively.

"No, haven't been around long enough; didn't break any hearts when I left either".

Hearing that, Hermione visibly showed the relief.

"Hogwart's agreeing with you more now?"

"Yeah, sort of. Still getting used to it. Don't particularly like deceiving everyone, though. Felt good to let it out, it really did. So, anyway, what does one do after graduation?"

"I haven't decided yet. I'd really like to make something of S, P, E, W. Maybe work within the Ministry, try to change things for the better".

"Sounds like you have quite an uphill struggle... I don't suppose I'll be hearing about it on CNN".

"No, definitely not. You know, I've been knitting hats and leaving them around the common room. That way, the house elves will find them, and be set free just as Dobby was".

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea..."

"I thought you were on my side?!"

"I am, don't get me wrong. However, you can't force freedom on them. That's still manipulating them. So they find these hats, what's to prevent them from turning around and selling themselves back into slavery to Hogwart's? You can't make anyone free until _they_ want it. You see what I mean about being so hide bound by tradition?"

"I never thought it'd be easy", she said. "You have any plans for the holidays?"

"Mom'll be here by then. Other than that, I don't think so. You?"

"Nothing special... I was wondering if we. Could, you know, meet up?" 

"Don't see why not. Little Whinging isn't all that far. I can always make time for you". …

"Look, let's not talk about Cedric right now..."

Harry and Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw, had arrived not long after Hermione and Jadin. They sat across the cafe, but now their conversation was getting loud enough to hear.

"I... I thought you would understand?! I thought you'd want to talk about it... I _need_ to talk about it! I mean, you were there when... it happened".

"I have talked about it: to Ron, Hermione..."

"Oh, so you'll talk about it to Hermione", as she shot a foul glance their way, "but you can't talk about it with me?"

"I know you were his girlfriend..."

"Then it's best if we paid. Sorry for taking up so much of your time".

"That didn't work out so swell", Jadin commented after Harry and Cho departed.

"I... don't know", Hermione said. "It's not like Harry... Harry hasn't been Harry lately... Since school started..."

"Wasn't that just because of the OWLs?"

"I... used to think so, but now, I'm not so sure. Ron says Harry's been having these dreams. I'm worried".

"Oh?"

"I'm not sure, but they could be coming from Hewhomustnotbenamed. I was wondering if your digivice could, I don't know, detect how?"

"I doubt that, I'm afraid. Maybe Impmon might have an idea?"


	10. Dolores Suspects

**10) Dolores Suspects**

"What's goin' on?", Jadin asked himself. For whatever reason, there was a large group of students gathered in the main entrance, diverted from their usual trek to the Great Hall.

_Educational Decree #24_

_All unregistered student organizations, associations, clubs, or societies are hereby prohibited. Any regular meeting of three or more students will so constitute such a group, and shall not meet without the express consent of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to be in violation of this Decree shall be expelled from Hogwart's immediately and permanently._

"Does this apply to the Gobstones Club?", one Fifth Year asked no one in particular. As they read the posting tacked to the wall.

"That sure didn't take long", Jadin whispered once he'd located Hermione.

"How did she find out?", she wondered.

"Looks like the Hog's Head wasn't such a swell idea after all", Jadin said. "Someone must've seen something, said something".

"And so it begins", it was Ron joining them.

"Obviously not", she agreed. "I didn't know where else..."

"I knew she was here to get rid of the Professor, to interfere in all our affairs", Ron explained.

"I think we all knew that from the get-go", Jadin reminded.

"Alright! Break it up! Move along!", it was Filch, the caretaker.

"See you after class", she whispered back.

"Ravenclaw or Gryffindor?"

"Gryffindor".

_Care of Magical Creatures_

Hagrid approached the gathered students assembled outside his cabin, He had a large side of beef slung over a shoulder.

"We doan have minny days leff when we can go inter ter foress. Terday's lessen is on thestrals. Inow mos' uv you woan be ible ter see 'em, but I assure you dare real. So's far's Inow, dere ain innyone cept fer me what's tried ter derrmesticate thestrals. Mebbe yer's heard thah thestrals're dang'rous. Nuttin ferther from ter troof. Thestrals are quy gen'le, smar, en dead useful. Now, if y'all foller me".

The first snow of the season had left a thin covering of powder over the lawn. Today was cold, but the thin sun of the Highlands did lend some warmth, though it was obvious that this would be the last class held outdoors with real, hands-on experience.

Hagrid led the way into a clearing. So far, the snow wasn't able to penetrate to the forest floor. With a soft grunt, Hagrid dropped the side of beef in the middle of the clearing, as the students stood at the fringe of trees.

"Mebbe we get lucky an' one comes aroun", he explained quietly. Be quyan doan spookem. Thestrals're kin'a shy. Ahm hopen dey'll scent ter beef an come".

It wasn't long until the beef moved slightly, a large chunk separated from the main mass, rose in a gentle arc before disappearing in mid air, to soft ohh's and ahh's. It happened again, but from a different direction, so there were probably two there.

"Thestrals mainly feedon carrion kinds lie vultures though dey does p'fer fresh meat, an blood is specully fav'red", Hagrid explained. "Kin innyone tellus why mos'uv yer prolly canna seeum?"

"Miss Hermione?"

"You can't see thestrals until you've seen death", she explained. "Not sure why that is, or how it works, but that's what I've heard".

"Quy rye, an' fi'e pints fer Gryffinderr".

"Oneuv ter t'ings we usemfer is to pull the carriages frum ter station. Been doin thah fer quy a few years now..."

"I can see them", Luna called out. 'I've known all along... you see, Mother died when I was nine. It was an accident... a spell back fired..."

"Ah'm migh'y sorry fer yer loss, Miss Luna".

"I saw them too", Harry spoke up. "First time, this year, but for some reason, not after Cedric died".

"Hit wood seem", Hagrid explained, "thah yer muss 'cept ter loss furss. Thah's wye dere's so much hard feelin's boud thestrals. Seeinim remines us uv them's we los'. Tain't dere faul' though. Dey canna hep what's dey are, yannow..."

"Hem! Hem!" Everyone recognized that fake throat-clearing.

"P'fesser Umbridge", Hargid greeted the interloper. "Whuh bring yer here?"

"Why Professor Hagrid, didn't you get the memo I sent to all the faculty?", she asked in that _faux_ pleasant voice.

"No, Ma'am, I shirly dinna".

"In that case, I'm doing regular inspections of all the faculty. And I must say that I am very disappointed in you, Professor Hagrid. Weren't you warmed about exposing your students to dangerous wildlife?"

"Wid awl due respeck, thestrals arnnah dang'rous..."

"The Ministry of Magic has so classified them as dangerous. It is highly irresponsible of you to be taking chances with the lives and limbs of your students. Wasn't that unfortunate incident with Mr. Malfoy last year lesson enough?"

"Buckbeak was'n dang'rous. Draco dinna foller meh 'structions aboud hippogryphs'n how yer s'posed ter 'proachem".

"Tut, tut, tut, Professor Hagrid, it does you no credit to blame students for your manifest failings. You're supposed to be the responsible adult here?"

"Yes, P'fesser"

"I shall make a note of this incident in my reports to the Ministry. While I'm here, I'd like a word with some of your students".

Hagrid knew he'd accomplish nothing by further argument.

"Shit!", Jadin thought to himself.

"Mr. Weston?", Umbridge asked.

"Yes, Ma'am, I'm Jadin Weston".

"Do you find Professor Hagrid's lessons understandable?"

"Ma'am? I'm not sure I..."

"Tut, tut, Mr. Weston, do you find his manner of speaking difficult to understand?"

"Ma'am, I have no problems understanding the Professor".

"Would you say he's professional?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I would".

"He always comes prepared for his classes?"

"Yes, Ma'am, he comes prepared".

"I see... and would you say you're getting anything out of his class? What has he taught you from the approved Ministry syllabus?"

"Ma'am, Professor Hagrid has his own teaching style, besides, this is more of a hands-on class. You really can't learn..."

"Unprofessional conduct... isn't prepared for class... doesn't have a lesson plan...", she said to herself as she wrote on her clipboard.

"I understand you are a transfer student from America?"

"That's right", he agreed.

"You came to Hogwart's because?"

"A transfer to Father's London offices came with a promotion he earned earlier this year".

"Your father does, what exactly, Mr. Weston?"

"Ma'am, no offense intended, but I am not comfortable discussing my father's..."

"Enough Mr. Weston! Ten points from Ravenclaw for insolence!"

"Ma'am, I apologize if..."

"Not another word Mr. Weston or you will be doing lines for me in detention!"

Jadin knew all about Umbridge's special quill. He doubted that it would work on him as it did on Harry. That would give him away, and if it did, that would be even worse. He'd already seen First Years – little kids – coming from the direction of Umbridge's office with hands bandaged.

She went to question the Slytherin gang, and of course, Malfoy and his friends told the High Inquisitor everything she wanted to hear: Hagrid was unprofessional, unprepared, incomprehensible, and indifferent to the students' welfare.

"What do you think you were doing back there?", Harry accused Jadin as they were returning to the castle.

"I'm not sure I follow?"

"You aren't in any position to be antagonizing Umbridge".

"I wasn't..."

"Yes you were! You disagreed with her!"

"What was I supposed to do? Let her fabricate a bad report for Hagrid?"

"Yes! That's precisely what you should have done!"

"But I like Hagrid"

"He's not your responsibility, he's _ours_. He would have understood"

"Just doesn't seem right".

"The _last_ person here you need paying you attention is the High Inquisitor! It's hard enough for Professor Dumbledore. We don't need you fucking everything up for the rest of us, and that's what happens if she finds out. Just stop..."

_Ravenclaw Common Room_

"So how's it goin' out in the boonies?", Jadin asked Impmon.

"Same old, same old. Sometimes, I wished Whatshisname would pull something. Make it a whole helluvalot more interesting".

"I'm not so sure that would be a good idea. How different would it be back home anyway? I'd be off to school during the days, and you'd be hanging out. Not so different, actually".

"I still say we should blow this place. If Whatshisname hasn't pulled anything by now, what's to say he ever will?"

"I don't know, Dumbledore did say something about a security perimeter. He seems to know what this is all about better than we do".

"So he keeps saying, but I'm not seeing any evidence here... I thought I heard someone snooping around the cabin last night. May have been something night before last as well".

"You see who?"

"Who ever it was, they were gone by the time Hagrid went out to look. Didn't find anything either".

"I wonder if that wasn't Malfoy or one of his pals. Anyway, keep an eye out for them".

"Any new developments?"

"Just a meet up with Hermione and some of her friends after classes, and before supper. Maybe I'll see if she knows anything about the Slytherin bunch".

_Gryffidor Common Room_

There were no more inspections of other classes, and for that, Jadin was grateful. It seemed the latest recipient of the High Inquisitor's ire was the Divination Professor: Sybil Trelawney. He knew her by reputation only. Most of the students considered Divination as waste of time, and Professor Trelawney a phony. However, that wasn't strictly true. Though descended from talented seers, she hadn't inherited much of their abilities. There were other times, though, when she produced valid prophecies. She had no idea what happened during these rare occasions when she zoned out.

Jadin stood before the portrait of the Fat Lady: "Jadin Weston to see Hermione Granger", he announced. To his eyes, it was just a picture of, well, a fat lady. Had he magical ability, he would have seen this portrait, and every other which hung on the walls, move as an animated GIF.

"You may enter", the Fat Lady replied, as the portrait swung aside to reveal the entrance to the common room.

"Thank you", Jadin said as though he'd heard.

He didn't need the paintings to go blabbing. He knew that was a very real possibility. These portraits weren't actually alive, nor did they really possess the consciousness of their subjects. They were more of a Turing test: programmed to act like the real thing. They did, however, spread gossip around the school. It was easy to forget that, at Hogwart's, the walls really did have eyes and ears.

"S'up guys?", Jadin greeted.

All the members of Dumbledore's Army were already there.

"I have an announcement", Harry spoke up, "I found us a place to practice. It was Dobby, actually. There's a hidden room here in the castle. He said it was the 'Room of Requirement'. He discovered it quite by accident when he was looking for a private place for Winky to sleep off another bender. One of the features, is that this room configures itself into whatever form you need it to take on to do what you want to use it for. We can hold our defense practices there, and Umbridge won't know about it".

"Sounds perfect", Ron spoke up, "almost too good to be true".

"It's true, Ron. I've seen it for myself. It's perfect", Harry replied. "Now we have a place we can practice, and the best part is that it _doesn't_ show up on the Map. Chances are that Umbridge has no idea it even exists".

"Dobby? Winky?", some one asked.

"Dobby: he's the house elf I freed from the Malfoys after that Chamber of Secrets clusterfuck. Lucius treated him horribly, and it was he who tried to warn me, even keep me from coming to school, because he knew Lucius was up to something. It was he who slipped Tom Riddle's old diary into Ginny's book bag, though no one could actually prove it, but it was definitely him.

"Dobby was a real pain in the ass at first, but later, we became good friends. After being set free, the Professor hired him on as staff. Dobby and Winky are the only house elves who get paid.

"As for Winky, she was Crouch's house elf. She was given clothes and told she was dismissed after she failed to keep Barty out of trouble. Unlike Dobby, she didn't want freedom, and it was a terrible disgrace for her. Even though the Professor hired her too, she tends to drown her sorrows. A real weakness for Butterbeer, and it has a more powerful effect on house elves. That's why Dobby was taking her to the Room of Requirement".

"We'll be needing a means of covert communication", Hermione explained as she passed out Galleons. "I cast the Protean Charm on these", she explained. "When we arrange a meet-up, they will grow warm in your pockets to alert you to an incoming message. The serial numbers will change to reveal the time of the meet-up. This way, we won't be seen in actual conversation, nor will we all be seen headed in the same direction. No one should be able to figure it out. In case Umbridge asks you to turn out your pockets, these coins will look like common Galleons. Just be careful that you don't accidentally try to spend one at Hogsmeade, as they will register as counterfeits. We all know how the goblins regard counterfeiting. Besides, you don't want to lose them".

Hermione passed out one Galleon to each member of the DA.

"I can't accept that", Jadin said.

"Oh?", Hermione asked.

"It won't work like that for me, in case you've forgotten".

"I keep forgetting", she apologized.

"However, there is a way", he explained as he pulled out his digivice.

He scanned the coin through the card reader: "Digitize!".

"There, that ought to do it", as he handed the Galleon to Hermione.

He checked the drop down menu, and "Galleon" had appeared under the MISC category, under "Marauder's Map".

"I'll never get used to that", Neville confessed. "Muggle technology mixing with magic".

"Better start", Horace reminded, "it was bound to happen sooner or later, and probably sooner, the rate tech is improving".

"So when do we begin?", Zacharias Smith asked.

"Give us a couple of days to set everything up", Neville explained. "Then you'll get the message via your Galleons".

"One final announcement", Hermione said. "The interview with Harry Rita did will be in tomorrow's _Quibbler._ She wasn't exactly happy about the arrangement, but she's just desperate enough not to force the matter, so it's going to be published".

_Slytherin Common Room_

"What have you found out?", Draco asked his assembled Inner Circle.

"The big oaf is hiding something", Goyle began. "Caught a glimpse of it. Looked like a house elf..."

"It wasn't one of Hogwart's elves?", Draco asked.

"Definitely not, unless there are purple house elves with tails. That's all I saw, but there was something else".

"Oh?", Draco asked.

"It seemed to be talking..."

"Talking?", Crabbe asked.

"To someone inside the castle".

"Are you sure? Know who?", Draco asked.

"Someone inside, somehow. Don't know who..."

"That Weston kid?", Draco asked.

"That'd be my guess", Goyle agreed.

"I'll find out", Pansy offered. "I know just how to do it".

"Little Miss Question-all and Potty are up to something", Crabbe announced. "Saw 'em sneaking around the Fifth Floor the other day".

"Keep an eye on them; find out as much as you can without getting caught", Draco told him. We may getting close to having something to offer the High Inquisitor, then we'll be rid of the lot of 'em, including Dumbledumbass".

_Gryffindor Common Room_

"You're seeing way too much of Hermione", Ron followed Jadin out of the common room to confront him. "I don't think the Professor would approve".

"Haven't seen any rings on her finger", Jadin pointed out. "Who I see isn't any business of Dumbledore's, or yours either".

"It wouldn't work out. You're from completely different worlds"

"Really? Then, pray tell, where do half bloods and muggle-borns come from? You are aware that she already has a foot in both worlds. Her parents are muggles, just like mine or Horace's"

"And so are you, or do you keep forgetting?"

"It doesn't matter if you don't mind..."

"Stop. Just stop".

This was the first indication that Jadin had that he'd stepped into a boyfriend/girlfriend situation, and that he was the rival.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The next morning, everyone was abuzz over the Harry Potter interview. For once, _The Quibbler_ ran a real story; for once, Rita Skeeter practiced real journalism. Harry laid out all the details of what he witnessed in the grave yard, the spell that reincarnated the Dark Lord with a bone from the father, taken unknowingly. The blood of the enemy taken unwillingly, and the flesh of the servant, given freely. The arrival of Death Eaters by apparition, as their Dark Marks burned, heralding the return of their Dark Lord.

Voldemort was less than pleased with his minions. He pointed out that they had done absolutely nothing during these past sixteen years to seek him out. To emphasize his point, Voldemort had killed some of his less useful idiots. Not even Wormtail escaped: Voldemort accused that Wormtail acted out of fear, not love. It was later that Voldemort reluctantly granted Wormtail a gift of appreciation: a silver prosthetic hand to replace the real one he cut off to complete the necessary formula.

As for Lucius Malfoy, he pointed out that he had spent the intervening years wearing the mask of respectability. Indeed, this was true: the Malfoys gave generously to charitable causes, such as contributions to St. Mungo's, Hogwart's alumni associations, any high profile cause that could burnish the Malfoy image from the first rampage of the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy had been very successful with this: convincing well placed figures that there was no truth to the rumours of Lucius and the Death Eaters. He was seen often at the offices of the Ministry, and was on a first name basis with the Minister himself.

Harry had testified to Lucius' presence, recalled his speech about feigning respectability, and described how eager Lucius Malfoy had been over the Dark Lord's return to fully physical form.

Harry told of what really happened to Cedric Diggory, who should never have been there in the first place. He would not have been, had not Harry insisted that the two Hogwart's Tri-wizard champions claim the prise together, neither knowing that Barty Crouch had cast the Portus Charm on the Tri-wizard Cup that he'd engineered Harry to claim. Cedric was an inconvenient witness who needed to be silenced. There was no unfortunate accident: Voldemort murdered Cedric in cold blood, and with malice aforethought.

As for Harry, he, too, should have been eliminated. Voldemort intended to do this job himself, completing the task of years before. Now that Voldemort used Harry's blood, he no longer burned at Harry's touch. They had dueled as Death Eaters looked on. For whatever reason, it was not to be: Harry's Expelliarmus neutralized Voldemort's Avada Kadavra. This gave Harry just enough time to escape with Cedric's body via the Tri-wizard Cup/Portkey that returned them to Hogwart's.

Voldemort needed to call in quite a few old markers in order to convince the Minister and the writers of the Daily Prophet that The Boy Who Lived was telling tall tales to cover up his responsibility for Cedric's death, and that he was an attention-seeking liar. Up till now, he'd succeeded. Classmates, like Seamus Finnigan, had begun to believe it.

Now, it had come to naught. The story in the _Quibbler_ rang all too true, and Harry had named names, including prominent ones, as still active Death Eaters. The interview made Harry an unwanted object of curiosity. That wasn't the worst part: students who's lost relatives during the last rampage also became objects of curiosity, and insensitive students opened old wounds.

Students discussed it before class, after class, in the hallways, at breakfast, lunch and dinner. Much to the displeasure of the High Inquisitor, who had insisted repeatedly that there was no truth to the stories, faculty, too, were discussing the interview.

It didn't take even 24 hours: there was a new Educational Decree: Any student caught with _The Quibbler_ would be expelled summarily. This just increased the demand, and copies were passed around, concealed by charms that made it look like class notes. That Xeno insisted that Rita agree to payment on a sliding scale instead of royalties worked in her favour. This issue of _The Quibbler_ was the highest selling edition in the publication's history, and was already in a brisk-selling second run.

Inside and outside the confines of Hogwart's, opinions regarding Harry and the Professor, their integrity and motives, were changing in their favour, and against that of the Ministry.

_Great Hall_

It was right after lunch. Pansy accosted Jadin.

"What you need", she said as she forced her lips to his, "is a _haw__www__t_ Slytherin girl, not that Gryffindor mudblood". She ran her hands all over his robes. It was too late before he realized she was frisking him, and had discovered his card carrier and digivice.

"Get your paws off!", Hermione demanded as she pulled Pansy off Jadin.

Wands were drawn to calls of: "Cat fight!", from the on-lookers.

Jadin used the distraction to head for the Ravenclaw dorms. Fortunately, he caught up with Horace.

"I know she was looking for something, and I'm pretty sure she found the digivice".

"Not a problem", Horace explained as he cast an Unnoticable Charm over the digivice and card carrier.

Not a moment too soon as one of the house elf message runners entered the dorm with a message that the High Inquisitor requested Jadin's presence in her office immediately.

"Nothing to worry about", Horace gave a thumbs-up.

Jadin knocked: "Come in", the High Inquisitor said.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?", he greeted.

The walls of Umbridge's office were covered with these collector plates featuring pictures of kittens. These looked like those made by the Franklin Mint, but unlike the ones sold in info-mertials, these kittens moved and mewed, though Jadin couldn't see that.

"Would you pull up your robe, and turn out your pockets", she ordered/requested with that fake tone of pleasantness.

Jadin did as asked. Horace's charm worked, well, like a charm. Though his digivice and card carrier were still clipped to his belt, Umbridge didn't notice even though they were in plain sight.

"Is that everything?", she asked as the last of his pocket contents were laid on her desk.

"Yes, Professor, that's everything".

"Your book bag too", she requested.

She found nothing out of the ordinary there either.

"You aren't hiding anything?", she asked.

"Professor?", he asked.

"No muggle items?"

"No, Professor".

"What of that card game?"

"That belongs to Horace, my room mate. He invited me to learn to play. What's the harm?"

"You have no other muggle artifacts?"

"No, ma'am. Why would I? Muggle artifacts don't work here, the magical fields..."

"So I was led to believe, but certain roumours have come to my attention. If you are hiding anything, I shall find out sooner or later, of that I can assure you. You are dismissed for now".

Jadin didn't know that Filch was also tossing his dorm room while he was detained with the High Inquisitor.

The next morning, there were two new Educational Decrees:

_Faculty will not discuss any outside issues unrelated to class work with students during class, or at any other time while on campus under penalty of immediate dismissal._

_Students are not permitted the possession of any Muggle artifacts. Any such artifacts shall be turned over to the High Inquisitor's office within 24 hours under penalty of immediate expulsion._

"Thanks for runnin' interference", Jadin told Hermione before Arithmancy.

"My pleasure. You didn't get in any trouble?"

"Almost, but it looks like no more Digimon Battle Cards. That bitch is getting to be a real kill-joy".

Decrees or no decrees, there were furtive discussions held in hushed whispers. Knots of professors that broke up as soon as anyone approached.

Students took advantage, after all, if the Professors couldn't discuss matters unrelated to class work, they couldn't reprimand students for talking in class. Professors also protested: they would award Gryffindor outrageous points at the slightest excuse. As a result, Gryffindor was well ahead for this year's House Cup.

Jadin got an alert which meant that Dumbledore's Army was holding its first practice session. He consulted the Marauder's Map, but this Room of Requirement wasn't on it. Neither were Hermione, Harry, or the other DA's. It looked like Harry had found the ideal place for them to practice.

_Dumbledore's Office_

"Ah, Mr Weston, do come in", he invited in his usual manner.

"I understand the High Inquisitor requested to see you?"

"Yes, she did".

"I suppose this has something to do with her latest decrees?"

"Indeed. She suspected I'm concealing muggle technology. Pansy Parkinson gave me the once-over. Caught me by surprise, but Hermione helped out. She doesn't know a thing, other than Horace's Digimon Battle Cards game".

"Most unfortunate. I trust you handled the situation?"

"With Horace's help, yes".

"What are Mr. Potter and his friends up to?", he asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Come, come, Mr Weston. I know there was some sort of meeting in the Gryffindor common room, and not all Gryffindor's either".

"You'll have to ask them, I really don't know anything", Jadin lied. "I don't see why they'd be including me, after all, I don't do magic".

"I don't suppose they would", Dumbledore agreed. "Still, I wondered if Hermione might have said something?"

"All she alluded to was some sort of study group, you know, to prepare for the OWL exams that're coming up in a couple of months or so. Since I'm not taking them, I wouldn't know".

"No, I don't suppose you would. A pity, actually, your professors tell me you're doing OWL quality work".

"Kind of them to say so".

"Quite. That will be all for now, and do be careful around our High Inquisitor".

"Always, Professor".


	11. Christmas Break

**11) Christmas Break**

"So what will you be doin'?", Jadin asked.

"I usually spend the break with my folks, but this year, we'll be staying with Sirius, Harry, me, the Weasley's. The Professor arranged it, to keep Harry safe, and to distract attention from the Dursley's. You?", Hermione said.

"Mom's coming to England. I don't have any other plans", Jadin replied. "You know, Little Whinging isn't all that far from London. I could get a ride, come see you. Where does Sirius live again?"

"It's 12 Grimmauld Place, but it wouldn't do you any good. Muggles don't see it".

"Impmon does, don't forget that. I don't suppose there'd be any harm? If that's not possible, then meet up nearby?"

"I'll ask Sirius if it'll be OK for you to come by. Though I don't see why not. Sirius is a fugitive himself still, and has played fast and loose with rules and regulations his whole life".

"Harry mentioned that: how he busted him out and let him escape".

"Don't forget Buckbeak: we busted him out as well".

The weather had turned foul. There weren't any more outside classes, no one real eager to go out unless it was absolutely necessary. Winters in the Highlands were uniformly gray, icy winds, snow.

The cabin fever began to take its toll, that, and the pressure of upcoming OWLs. It didn't do anything to improve Harry's mood, nor Ron's either. Especially not Ron's as he had to deal with both losing out with Hermione, and stand by watching as his younger sister was developing a romance with Harry. Of course, Ron knew it had to happen some day: Ginny was his little sister, but she was also growing up. Still, it was difficult to adjust, to see her and Harry together, to know she didn't need his big brotherly protection.

_Gryffindor Dorms_

"Ron!", Harry called out. "Wake up!"

"Bloody hell", Ron told him. Still half-asleep. "You got any idea what time it is?"

"It's your Dad: he's been attacked. At the Ministry..."

"Another bad dream? I'm sure it was nothing..."

"No!", Harry insisted. "I saw it! He was attacked by a giant snake, It's like I was there", Harry explained, "it's like I did it. We have to help him! He's _dying!_"

("What's going on?")

("_Shaddap!_")

Harry had awakened others in the dorms. Harry's "nightmares" were becoming a problem for more than just he and Ron.

"OK, OK", Ron agreed, if for no other reason than to placate Harry before he woke everyone up and made themselves unpopular with the rest of House Gryffindor. They made their way to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office complex, gave the password.

"Professor! Professor! Are you in there?!", Harry banged the door knocker.

"Harry? Ron?", Dumbledore asked as he opened the door.

"Thank God!", Harry exclaimed in relief. "Ron's father was just attacked. He needs help immediately!"

"Harry?", Dumbledore asked, perplexed.

"At the Ministry; I saw it: a snake attacked him. There's blood everywhere. Please! We need to hurry..."

"I'll look into it", the portrait of Phineas Nigellus volunteered. Phineas was a former Headmaster who'd served during the eighteenth century. The only Headmaster from House Slytherin, and one of the least respected, most incompetent, Headmasters Hogwart's ever had. There were portraits of Nigellus around the offices of the Ministry, so it was possible for him to do this.

"Calm down, Harry", Dumbledore reassured. "What, exactly, did you see?"

"Ron's father: he was standing around this dark corridor, featureless, and lit by torch light. Then, out of nowhere, this enormous snake appeared. It attacked him, over powered him, and bit him several times. Then it tried to wrap its coils around him to crush him".

"A bad dream? I'm sure there's nothing to it"

"No, Professor, it wasn't a dream. It's like I was right there, but I could do nothing..."

"It's just as Harry described", Phineas was back. "Arthur Weasley was indeed attacked by something. They found him down there, by the Department of Mysteries..."

"_Dad!_", Ron called out, "he isn't..."

"Not when I saw him", the portrait replied. "He was on his way to St. Mungo's, but there was talk about how he may not make it. They did say that if he hadn't been found when he was, there'd be nothing they could do: he surely would have died. They looked for the snake that attacked him, but have seen no trace of it so far".

"Dad?", Ron collapsed into a chair. "_I have to see him!_"

"Out of the question", Dumbledore objected. "Not until we learn more of what happened. You could be putting yourself into danger and you'll just be getting in the way. Phineas will keep us informed as to your father's progress".

"I have to..."

"I won't allow it", Dumbledore objected. "Not now. As for the rest of the family, they will be informed".

"What, exactly, did you see?", Dumbledore asked of Harry.

He told everything, leaving out the part where Harry had seen everything from the snake's point of view. As though it was Harry who'd attacked his best friend's father.

"I've had dreams about that corridor ever since the term began", Harry concluded.

"This is most disturbing", Dumbledore announced. "Most disturbing indeed. I think it best if you shut out these dreams and visions. Voldemort could use this as a gateway into your mind, and you don't want him inside your mind. I will recommend that you begin taking special lessons from Professor Snape in Occlumency starting tomorrow.

"It was just a question of time, until Voldemort discovered that psychic connection that was forged on the night he attacked you so many years ago. We can not permit him to use it against you. Go back to your dorms, and mention this to no one.

"Ron, you too. There's nothing more to be done tonight. I shall inform you of your father's progress as soon as I receive news. Now, off with the both of you".

"Could he use this to posses me?", Harry asked. "The same way he possessed Ginny?"

"I doubt that, but I can't say there is no possibility, Harry. This is why I want you to learn Occlumency", Dumbledore explained.

_The Dungeons: Snape's Office_

"No, Mr. Pot-ter", Snape corrected. "You need to gain control of your emotions. Otherwise, they can provide a gateway directly into your mind. You need to clear your emotions, empty your mind".

"I'm trying...", Harry began to protest.

"It doesn't seem to me you're trying very hard, Mr Pot-ter. Let's start over from the beginning...", Snape had his wand at the ready. "This time, try to keep me out of your mind".

A message runner arrived saying that Professor Snape was needed elsewhere before he could cast the Legilimens spell. He was secretly relieved to hear that.

"Today's lesson is concluded", he announced. "At least try to follow my instructions. Before you sleep, take ten minutes or so to clear your mind of all thoughts and feelings. Now, if you will excuse me..."

Snape and Harry left the office. As Harry was about to leave, he noticed the blue glow peaking out from under the door. Snape's memory, the one he always removed from his mind and stashed in the pensieve before each lesson began was still in there. He'd forgotten to retrieve it. Harry returned once he was sure Snape was off to his appointment.

Harry knew he shouldn't. However, the temptation to know more about his father, of whom he knew very little as his uncle Vernon didn't want him to know anything about his past, and his aunt Petunia wouldn't tell him much, in deference to her husband, was too much. The opportunity too rare to pass up. Besides, what harm could a quick look-see possibly do? That's all he intended: just a quick look before Professor Snape returned. He'd be none the wiser, Harry rationalized, as he approached the pensieve still sitting on the professor's desk top. Though Professor Snape never said what memory it was, Harry was certain it had to do with him. Otherwise, why would he always remove this particular memory before lessons that could possibly expose it to his view?

The contents swirled and gave off a bluish light. Not gas, vapor, nor liquid, the contents shared physical properties with all three. Harry entered the memory as he plunged his head into the pensieve and its contents.

It was a spring day, near the end of the term. He recognized the lawn, as that hadn't changed much in the intervening years. At first, there was nothing to indicate that this wasn't a different time. Until he spotted a much younger Severus Snape. He looked to be Harry's age, and that meant he was seeing into a past of about twenty five years or so.

"Hey, Snivellus!", James Potter called out. "Didn't I warn you about showing your face around here? This part of the lawn belongs to Gryffindor's" Harry instantly recognized both his father, to whom he was often compared, and his godfather: Sirius Black, whose appearance hadn't changed all that much.

"Last I heard, it belongs to Hogwart's", Severus defied him.

"Then I guess you need another lesson", James threatened.

Snape went for his wand, but James was faster on the draw.

"Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand went flying. Sirius Black let out a bark of laughter.

"Good one, Prongs", he congratulated.

"Impedimentia!", James fired again, as Snape dived to recover his wand. He fell about ten feet short.

Wands out, James and Sirius advanced on the now disabled Severus Snape. Peter "Wormtail" Pettigrew was joining them, the sadistic pleasure written on the face of the rat-like, boy animagus. He stepped around Remus Lupin. A crowd was gathering to see what happened next.

Remus was sitting nearby, pretending to read a book as he peered over the edge. He never took part in their tormenting of the socially awkward Severus, who naturally fell in with the creepiest House Slytherin had to offer. He didn't approve, but not enough to actually protest, nor to interfere on behalf of Severus.

"So, Snivelly, how'd the exam go?", James asked.

"I was watching", Sirius explained, "he had that big nose of his right to the parchment. It'll be so greasy that no one will be able to read a word of it, so I suppose he'll pass the damn thing, but not through any sort of merit".

James and Sirius laughed at him. More people joined in on the laughter. Wormtail shrieked with that high-pitched laugh of his.

Severus was still struggling with the impediment jinx, as though bound with unseen ropes.

"Just you wait", Snape hissed at him. "I will show all of you..."

"That's rich, coming from the likes of you", James taunted. "Can't even hold onto your wand, so what are you going to show any of us? That you have the greasiest, filthiest hair of anyone in the history of Hogwart's?"

Sirius said as he pointed his wand: "I can help with that, Scourgify!"

Snape's hair overflowed with soap bubbles. "You're welcome, Snivels", he taunted to more laughter.

"Leave him alone!" Lily Evans was arriving.

"All right, Ms. Evans?", now James was trying to sound oh so mature.

"Leave him alone", she said again. "Why do you have to be such assholes? What's he ever done to you?"

"He exists, that's enough", James explained. "We're just having a spot of fun with ol' Snivelly"

"And you, Remus! Why are you just sitting there?!"

"Hey, not my business", he replied.

"Tell you what, Lily, go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on Snivels ever again. Agreed?"

"I'd rather go out with a side winder".

"Oh well", James said, "your choice"

"Levicorpus!", he cast the spell he'd invented which suspended Snape by one ankle, upside down. His robe cascaded around his head, revealing his skinny, pallid legs and graying underwear for the growing crowd.

Harry realized he'd over stayed his intent as he felt himself pulled from the scene.

"Having fun, Pot-ter?", Professor Snape asked, barely holding his anger in check.

"Pro... professor... I... just...", he tried to explain he'd meant no harm.

"So you've seen what a total piece of shit your father really is... How dare you! How _dare_ you invade my memories!"

"Professor..."

"Not another word Pot-ter! I only agreed to teach you Occlumency because Professor Dumbledore asked me. I always knew I was wasting my time. Now get out! And don't you _ever _mention to anyone what you witnessed".

"Yes, Professor", Harry said sheepishly as he left the office.

Harry had wanted to learn more about his father, but didn't like what he'd just learned. He never figured the man – and the godfather – he looked up to could have been that nasty. It was the darker side of the Marauders, and he wished he hadn't seen this aspect of his father's life. It also clarified why Professor Snape treated him the way he did. Once, Harry figured it was because Snape expected more of him. Now he knew it was because he was still taking out his anger with James and his Marauders for what happened before Harry was even born, because he looked too much like James.

That he'd just given Professor Snape another reason to dislike him a major blunder.

_Dumbledore's Office_

"You wanted to see me?", Jadin asked. He'd received yet another excuse from class.

"It's about the Christmas break", Dumbledore explained. "I've arranged for Mr. Potter and his friends to stay with Sirius in London. The Dursley's probably won't mind too much. I'm doing this, not only for their benefit, but for Mr. Potter's as well. The home of the Blacks has many strong protective charms in place already.

"I'm also doing this for your benefit as well. It's for the best that Voldemort pay as little attention to Little Whinging and all of its inhabitants. That includes you and Impmon, obviously. I'm also sending Minerva to meet with your parents, to escort them to King's Cross,".

"I'd appreciate that, and was wondering about that, what with the concealment of Platform 9.75", Jadin said.

"That's not everything", Dumbledore continued explaining, "I think it best if you did not have any contact with Mr. Potter or his friends during your absence from Hogwart's".

"The hell you say..."

"I do say, Jadin, the less he knows about you, the less chance he has to discover the existence of digimon. Of course, I'm talking about Ms. Granger. I know you have feelings for her, and she, too, will be staying with Mr. Black, not her folks, and for the same reason: her presence endangers them. Professor Hagrid tells me that there has been some interest on the part of certain students as to the identity of his current house guest. Given Professor Umbridge's sudden interest in muggle artifacts, it would appear that they know too much as it is".

"We can take care of ourselves..."

"I'm hoping that you won't be so reckless. I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think it important. You can't appreciate just how dangerous Voldemort can be. After all, you didn't witness his last rampage through the Wizarding World".

"I'll take it under advisement".

"See that you do. There was one other thing I meant to ask"

"Oh?"

"It concerns Mr. Potter and these dreams".

"Why not ask him yourself? I don't like to gossip..."

"If I could, I would. I'm asking you, but not for the sake of idle gossip".

"I've heard talk, from Ron and Hermione..."

"Then I take it he still has the dreams?"

"I've heard Ron mentioning that sometimes Harry wakes him up in the middle of the night. There's something else: Impmon has detected something, some sort of outside transmission..."

"I was afraid of that", Dumbledore sighed. "Then the dreams are coming from Voldemort?"

"It would appear so", Jadin agreed.

"Has he been practicing his Occlumency?"

"I don't think so. It would seem there's been some sort of disagreement over something. Professor Snape called off those lessons. I don't know why. Over heard them arguing about it, but I didn't ask".

"That is most unfortunate, and I fear for Harry's well being".

_Outside the Great Hall_

"So what's the plan?", Jadin asked.

"I don't know", Hermione explained. "With Ron's dad in St Mungo's, that complicates things".

"I know... it's too bad about Arthur. Christmas is definitely out for me".

"Me too. I'll probably be with my folks".

"The day after, then? Not much goin' on the day after Christmas".

"If we're going to meet-up, that'd be the best time for me as well".

"Then it's settled: the day after Christmas. Gimme a call".

The logistics of meeting up had become complicated. There would be no time before Christmas. Jadin and his parents would need that time to get re-acquainted after his lengthy absence, and the arrival of his mother. Hermione would be spending that time with the Weasley's, visiting Arthur while he recuperated in St. Mungo's – a bad place to be spending Christmas.

As for visiting 12 Grimmauld Place, that was out of the question. Definitely not now, that Dumbledore didn't want Jadin to leave Little Whinging. Jadin figured it was none of his business, who he saw. No way could he be so close, and yet not see her the whole two weeks of the Christmas break.

_Little Whinging: The Weston Residence_

The older woman wore her muggle attire uneasily. She rapped on the door, not thinking to push the doorbell button.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Weston, I'm Minerva McGonagall. May I come in?"

"Yes, of course... My wife Cecelia", Dirk Weston replied.

"You're Jadin's mother? I'm Minerva McGonagall – deputy Headmistress of Hogwart's".

"That medieval themed boarding school Jadin's been attending? What is it that brings you here?", Cecelia asked suspiciously

"I suppose you could call it that, but there's more to Hogwart's. It's an uncommon event, having someone like your son in attendance. I'm here to make the arrangements for Jadin's arrival for the Christmas break".

"What arrangements?", they asked. "Jadin mentioned something about a train. So?"

"It would be best to show you first", McGonagall explained. "It's not often we have to do this, just so you know ahead of time".

With that, McGonagall transformed herself into her animagus form: that of a short hair silver tabby. This didn't look like digivolution, so far as she knew, but she was sure she didn't know everything there was to know about the Digital World.

"So you digivolve too?", Cecelia asked. "What are you? Some sort of digimon?"

She reversed the transformation: "I'm an animagus", she explained, "it's a rare gift, actually... it's just that I didn't expect you would take this so readily?"

"We've been living with all sorts of weirdness, ever since Impmon arrived", Dirk explained. "There's not much that can surprise us any more".

"What, exactly, has Impmon gotten my son into this time?", Cecelia asked.

"I'm a magician", McGonagall explained. "We're not supposed to reveal our presence to non-magical outsiders. It's just that something happened, right here in town, that involves your son, and another young magician: Harry Potter..."

McGonagall explained about the dementers, the attack on Potter, how Jadin and Impmon intervened, the reason why Albus Dumbledore thought it best to bring them to Hogwart's.

"It's bad enough, the Wild Ones, but there was never a threat to us. This Lord Voldemort, do you really believe he poses a threat?"

"I know it's a lot to take in all at once", Minerva explained, "but we have a responsibility, now that Jadin does know that goes beyond the bounds of the Law of Secrecy, even if it goes against the letter of the law. As for Voldemort, I wouldn't be telling you this if I sincerely believed there was no threat. He's our responsibility, but unfortunately, he isn't content with just Magical Britain, or even Europe. Not this time. He has designs on the Muggle World as well, and considers Muggles fit for little more than serving as slaves. He has very little regard for life, and he has the means to back up all the threats he's been making. So, you see, you have become our responsibility too".

"Muggle?", Cecelia asked.

"Our term for non-magicals. It is a bit disorienting to discover your children can do things that most other children can not. Usually, being informed, having the opportunity to send them to our school, comes as a great relief. And there is danger, just as with the Digimon Mentors. We understand".

"I can't say I'm happy with all of this", Cecelia explained, "Jadin's involvement with the Mentors..."

"It's the same for parents of magical children, especially the mixed and muggle families. You are the parents of a special child, even if that specialness is different. After all, Impmon could have chosen anyone, yet he chose Jadin, didn't he?"

"That's true", she agreed.

"So, then, tomorrow I'll escort you to the station".

_Hogwart's Express_

Jadin shared a compartment with Horace, Luna, Cho, and Padma Patil. They were describing plans for their break. Luna and her father would be traveling to Sweden to look for evidence of the Crumple Horned Snorkack. Horace would be spending the time with his folks, as would Jadin. Cho said something about maybe meeting up with Harry, that she wasn't quite ready to give up on a relationship with him just yet.

"So do you really think your digimon will help us?", Padma asked.

"All I can promise is that we'll try. I've told you before: I can't make any guarantees, but when the time's right, I'll do my best. The worst that can happen is they'll say no, assuming we can get an audience".

"How is it, being a Mentor?", Cho asked.

"It's different. You see, digimon aren't like anything you're used to. They don't serve, and we don't order them around. There is no subservience to the relationship, not like house elves. Digimon wouldn't put up with that for very long, if you didn't treat them as equals. They have fought for their freedom before in Digital World history, and guard it carefully. That's at least one sign of hope: Whatshisname is a tyrant wannabe, and digimon are familiar with the type".

"Then how do you make them obey you?"

"We Mentors don't. Our partners obey because they want to learn the ways of the Material World".

"Why would they do that?"

"I believe that they're coming as a sort of advance force. They've always known of the Material World, they figured out how to make the transit across the Frontier, and will be looking to establish some sort of formal relationship. Anyway, that's what I believe, and it makes sense".

"But they seem to be magical? Don't they have spells and jinxes too?"

"Digimon have various attacks that look that way, but there's nothing magical about it. It's all technological, not magic. The lines between magic, science, and technology can appear blurry at times".

"So how are the DA lessons going?", Jadin asked.

"Fine, so far. Harry's a better teacher than he let on", Cho explained. "He gave us this speech, reminding us he's far from an expert, but he also reminded us that every great wizard starts out as unaccomplished as any of us".

"He's working on defensive spells", Luna added. "Some of the others don't agree, like that Zacharias Smith: he thought it pointless to learn Expelliarmus. He said it would be better to hit back harder, though Harry doesn't agree. He's still taking the lessons, though".

"No problems from Umbridge?"

"She doesn't suspect a thing. They can't detect the Room of Requirement. I don't think even the Professor knows".

"I bet he does", Padma disagreed. "He's been around, like, forever. No way he _doesn't_ know about the Room. If he knows, he won't say".

"That sounds about right", Jadin agreed.

"Makes no difference", Luna added. "We still need to know for the OWLs. Regardless of what she says, the Ministry hasn't changed the Defense part of the exams. Don't show you can perform defensive charms, don't pass".

"Yeah, how many are gonna flunk because of that bitch?", Horace agreed.

Half way through the trip, the three Ravenclaws and Hermione exchanged places. Now that they were out of the Highlands, the weather outside, though cold, was sunny for a change. A clean whiteness covered the country side for as far as they could see.

Hermione settled next to Jadin, leaned against him.

"A whole week", she sighed.

"Yeah, it's gonna be a long week", Jadin agreed.

"You still up for a get-together?", she asked.

"Of course. What Dumbledore doesn't know won't hurt us".

"He'll find out..."

"I don't care. What's he gonna do anyway? Turn us into his pet mice? Dock our houses points? It's off-campus, so maybe he'll yell at us. A small price to pay".

"I agree: it _isn't _any of his business".

"Ah yes, that famous Gryffindor brashness... How do Ravenclaws rate in the play fast and loose with the rules department?"

"I'm not really sure. Ravenclaws have a reputation for bookishness... You know, I was almost sorted into Ravenclaw".

"I didn't know that, but now that you mention it, it seems it would be a good fit".

"Then Harry'd be just another kid at school, and I wouldn't have met you. It worked out perfectly".

"I wonder where I'd be sorted for real?"

"Ravenclaw, for sure. It suits you well. Maybe Gryffindor, but that's not an objective observation. I definitely can't see you in Slytherin".

For the rest of the trip, Jadin and Hermione dozed.

_London: King's Cross_

Dirk, Cecelia, and Minerva had arrived. This was one of the very few times McGonagall had traveled in a muggle conveyance.

"So where's this platform you mentioned?", Dirk asked.

"I see a 'nine' and a 'ten', but no 9.75", Cecelia added.

"Take my hands, and follow me", McGonagall said. "It's a bit, how shall I say, counter intuitive, but I assure you, no harm will come to you".

It wasn't easy, walking straight towards the support that sported the "Platform 9" placard. They passed straight through, and found themselves in what King's Cross must have looked like in 1890.

Right on time, the Hogwart's Express was pulling up. This being a steam locomotive, with the coal tender right behind the engine, which sported a plough. As it pulled to a stop, the engine chuffed softly, smoke and steam rising from the stack. The passenger cars were all bright red, with "Hogwart's Express" in fancy gold lettering.

Families awaiting their students stood around. The pure wizarding families wearing ceremonial robes or other nineteenth century dress. The families of the half bloods and muggle born in more modern attire. They weren't mixing.

"There he is!".

Jadin ran up to his parents, throwing his arms around his mother: "You finally made it! Welcome to England. Been too long..."

"It's good to see you", Cecelia said. "Let me look at you... You look well".

"They've been taking good care of me".

"So it would seem. I still don't know what this school of yours is all about..."

"I'll explain later. There's someone I'd like for ya'all to meet"

He turned: "Hermione!", he called out.

"Everyone: Hermione Granger. My Mom and Dad".

"Pleased to make your acquaintance", she said.

"Jadin's written so much about you", Dirk said.

"Oh, my Mum and Dad", Hermione introduced.

"Ted..."

"...And Marilyn Granger".

"...Dirk and Cecelia Weston".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"So how's your Christmas so far?", Jadin asked as Hermione joined him at a London cafe.

"It's been busy. We've been living with Harry's godfather. We all stopped by St. Mungo's to see Mr. Weasley. He's responding well to the treatments and should be out soon. I also discovered that Neville's parents are there in the psych ward. Unfortunately, they are never leaving. They were driven completely mad by the Cruciatus Curse. It's sad, their being victims of the last rampage".

"That's too bad... I like Neville", Jadin agreed.

"I also left a present for Sirius' house elf, Kreacher"

"Kreacher?"

"Yes, it's common for house elves to be given silly names like that. Poor guy, he's been treated badly all his life. I don't know, he seems to have disappeared somewhere, but Sirius seems indifferent to his well being".

"How'd that happen?"

"Sirius got mad at him over something and ordered him to get out. Kreacher seems to have taken that to mean the house itself".

"How about the others? Ron? Ginny?"

"They're in better spirits, now that Mr. Weasley is out of danger. Though there was a disappointment. Ron's older brother, Percy, sent back a gift sweater Mrs. Weasley knitted for him. He's so loyal to the Minister, it looks like he's called off any relationship with his family over this business between the Professor and Minister Fudge".

"That's unfortunate".

"Mrs. Weasley was devastated".

"This whole thing is quite a clusterfuck all around".

"It certainly is. So how are your folks doing?"

"It's great. Mom's gotten all our business wrapped up, so we'll be together until Dad's assignment is up. It was great, seeing her after so long. As for the rest, well, they're not happy about it... resigned, I guess you'd say. They're used to it by now. Not too much different for your folks?"

"That's about right. They were none too happy, that I couldn't stay with them for the whole break. It puts our parents in a bind, your being a Mentor, my being a witch".

Suddenly, Hermione got a peculiar look.

"Hermione?"

"Those two men in the other booth... don't look", she whispered. "There's something not right about them. Death eaters".

"Damn".

"Yeah. Best get out of here, split up".


	12. Escape from Hogwart's

**12) Escape from Hogwart's**

Jadin and the others at the Ravenclaw table were discussing the usual: the OWLs, which were two weeks off, whining about how Professor So-and-so was giving way too much homework, and Quidditch. There was no possibility that Ravenclaw would take the Quidditch Cup, as the two best Seekers were Harry Potter of Gryffindor and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin. It was a tight contest for first between them. Ravenclaw could only hope to beat Hufflepuff for third place. As for this year's House Cup, Ravenclaw was definitely in contention, though Gryffindor had won it every year since Potter's arrival. There was speculation that the Headmaster was playing favourites and cheating the other houses – especially Slytherin – of the House Cup.

It was the same for the Hufflepuffs across the hall, and Slytherin farther down the aisle. The Gryffindor's seemed subdued in comparison, as did the faculty. Even Umbridge seemed unusually preoccupied, not watching for any misbehaviours as she usually did.

Hermione came briskly down the aisle, along the wall. She dropped a paper in front of Jadin.

"Seen today's _Daily Prophet_?"

"I don't bother with that bird cage liner".

"Today's: read it", as she headed back towards the Gryffindor table.

"What was that all about?"

Jadin glanced at the headline:

**MASS ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN!** The headline read in larger than normal type.

**MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS REORGANIZING DEATH EATERS**, in smaller type.

"Looks like some sort of jailbreak from Azkaban", he explained.

"Azkaban is supposed to be escape-proof".

"So was Alcatraz, but where there's a will, a way will be found".

"I guess..."

Since breakfast was being served, it would have to wait. He'd worry about it later as he shoved the newspaper into his book bag.

It wasn't until almost noon before he could take a look at it in the Ravenclaw common room.

_The Ministry of Magic confirmed that a mass escape from Azkaban Prison had occurred in the early evening hours yesterday. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic:_

_"We find ourselves in the same unfortunate situation as we were almost three years ago when the convicted serial killer, Sirius Black escaped. We do not believe these two incidents unrelated. Obviously, a break-out of this magnitude could never be accomplished without outside aid. Black would be ideally situated to render such aid. We further believe that these individuals, including Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, are rallying around Black as their leader. We are doing everything in our power to locate and apprehend these criminals. We urge the public to remain calm, but to be alert. Should anyone see these individuals, under no circumstances are they to be approached"._

It was as he expected: complete nonsense. He couldn't figure why Hermione, of all people, would treat the _Daily Prophet_ as anything other than as a liner for Crookshanks' litter box. He knew all about the raw deal Harry's godfather had received, courtesy of the Ministry. He also knew that he was no Death Eater. Harry and his friends were living with him, even though he was still a wanted fugitive. Jadin figured it was an exaggeration. Probably someone screwed up and let some minimum security prisoners walk out, or they didn't return from a work release program, or something of that nature.

He had a look at the mugshots: nine males, and the one female. He was drawn to Bellatrix's mugshot: long, jet black hair that looked unkempt in the photo. She glared defiantly through heavy-lidded eyes, a slight smile that wreaked of contempt. She'd obviously been quite a looker, but now, years behind bars had taken their toll - or something had. She had the same look as certain female celebrities, he had in mind a couple of singers, who'd lived fast. He figured it was too much booze, nose candy, and indiscriminate sex. Lestrange looked like a used-up, middle-aged whore. As for the nine males, they all looked like someone you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley. Of course they did.

It was an inside article that caught his attention: "Tragic Death of Ministry of Magic Worker". Broderick Bode, age 49, had been discovered dead in his bed at St. Mungo's Hospital: "strangled by a potted plant". He'd read that as "palmon" at first. The article went on to say that this Mr. Bode had received a potted plant over Christmas. As Mr. Bode was convalescing, the article said, he was being encouraged to take care of the plant as part of his therapy. No one was aware that it wasn't simply an innocent Flitterbloom, but rather a cutting of Devil's Snare. This plant then strangled him as soon as he touched it. Jadin knew that a palmon - a plant digimon who could root itself, disguise itself as a flowering plant, draw water and sustenance from soil and photosynthesis - could do that: lie in wait for days, weeks, or even months before striking its victim with its "Poison Ivy" attack. Of course, a palmon wouldn't have stuck around after doing a dirty deed like that to be identified. It would either run away, or more likely, return to the Digital World. He filed that away for future reference: ask Hermione or someone about this "Devil's Snare".

This, too, was an article he highly doubted. Who in their right mind would do such a thing? If someone wanted Bode out of the way, what guarantee did he have that Bode would be the first to touch the Devil's Snare? It didn't make any sense, unless it was a totally indiscriminate act and whoever sent it didn't care who it killed. And that _still_ made no sense.

"Did you read it?", Hermione asked anxiously, as she caught up with him on the way to Arithmancy. It was obvious she'd been waiting for him.

"Yeah, so?", he replied.

"So? SO?!", she said. "Don't you understand?"

"Understand what, exactly? The _Prophet_ has lower ethical standards than the New York Slimes, which, at least, fired a reporter who was caught making stuff up. If the _Prophet_ said 2 + 2= 4, I would double check with a reliable source. Honestly, how can you read bullshit like that? Remember what they've been saying about Potter? Now, he may have his quirks - who doesn't - but he's not crazy, delusional, an attention seeker, or anything like that. And Sirius Black ain't no serial killer..."

"What would you expect the Ministry to say? Admit that Dumbledore was right all along, he-who-must-not-be-named is back, and opps - sorry 'bout that? And, yes, he was right all along about how the Dementors would slip out of Ministry control, turn traitor, and allow you-know-who's worst of the worst to just walk out of Azkaban. They've been denying _everything_ that Dumbledore's been warning them about, and _now_ it's coming to pass just like he said it would. This is important, and you _should_ pay attention! I don't see how you can be so blase about this!

After Sirius escaped, Hogwart's was lousy with Dementors. _Ten_ of the most dangerous Death Eaters break out, and where are the Dementors? Not a single one in sight anywhere. That, alone, proves that - at least this time - the _Prophet_ isn't lying".

"You've been in the loop for a lot longer than I have. I don't know what political games this Minister of Magic of yours has been playing. Are you sure there's anything to this, and they're not just exaggerating a minor security kerfuffle into some sensationalist story?"

"I'm _certain_ of it! A mass escape from Azkaban of ten of the worst of you-know-who's Death Eaters is something they _can't_ cover up. So they put the blame on Sirius instead. They've gone so far as slander: they're _that_ desperate. You see this?". She turned to the inside story about the death of Bode.

"I did: figured it was a palmon at first. Could some random maniac have sent the Devil's Snare? What guarantee would he have that it wouldn't've attacked someone else after all this time?"

"Bode's killer could easily have bewitched it to attack only Bode. We can do that, yannow, and _we_ knew him", she said.

"No sh..."

"None: Ron's father works for the Ministry, and he knew Broderick Bode - he worked in the Department of Mysteries as an 'Unspeakable' (making finger quotes): someone whose work is so secret that they can't discuss it with anyone outside the Department. I don't know what happened to him, but it somehow involved his work within the Department - and you-know-who. Last time I saw him, he was quite unresponsive. That was back around Christmas, after Harry saw a vision of that snake that attacked Ron's father. It looks like someone decided to make sure Mr. Bode remained silent about what happened to him. There have been a whole series of some _decidedly_ strange goings-on in and around the Department".

"What else has Harry seen in dreams?"

"I don't know if I..."

"Did he tell you not to tell? C'mon, it might be important".

"You won't tell him I told?"

"No. I don't gossip for the hell of it".

"There was this one where he said he was walking down a long, dark corridor lit by torch light towards a closed door. He said he's been dreaming of it for months now".

"Does he know where it leads?"

"He said to the Department of Mysteries; he realized that shortly after Mr. Weasley was attacked... I'm not sure how this helps".

"Neither am I".

"Does he know what's in there, what's so damned important that it's getting people killed?"

"No. What's that expression you Yanks always use?"

"The excrement's about to hit the impeller?"

"Yeah, _that_ one... it's just a question of where it all lands", Hermione explained.

It was a bigger deal than Jadin had first supposed. By the afternoon break, the "great escape" became just about the only subject of conversation. There were the usual wild rumours: they'd been spotted in Hogsmeade. They were supposedly hiding out at the Shrieking Shack, they were going to storm the gates of Hogwart's, hold all the students hostage to make their final stand. None of it resembling the truth at all.

"Hey", Jadin greeted Horace. They had the common room all to themselves. "Need to contact Impmon..."

"I'll keep an eye out", Horace volunteered.

Jadin took out his digivice, and entered Impmon's ID. Impmon's face appeared on the holographic screen. He was at Hagrid's cabin.

"It looks like you're gonna get your wish after all: something's going down. If you haven't heard just yet, ten of Whatshisname's Death Eaters just walked out of Azkaban, and are on the loose. It's all anyone up here can talk about, and Umbridge is passing more decrees to put an end to it. I have a real bad feeling about this".

"'Bout damn time".

"Stick close, we may have to move quickly. I expect Dumbledore's gonna want another meet-up pretty soon. Then, after that, who knows?"

"Will do", he said as he signed off.

"What do you suppose is going to happen?", Horace asked.

"He'll probably be wanting us to help him round up those Death Eaters".

"Can Impmon do that?"

"He'll probably have to digivolve, but yeah, he can".

_Hogwart's: Dumbledore's Office_

"Ahhhh, Mr. Weston, come in", he invited.

"More questions about the Digital World?", Jadin asked. "You want me and Impmon to round up those Death Eaters?"

"Not this time", Dumbledore replied, "I wanted to ask you about Mr. Potter".

"Harry? What about him?"

"What can you tell me about these 'dreams' he's been having?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. He doesn't like to talk about it".

"I see. What have you heard? You said it yourself: there are few secrets at a boarding school".

"I don't like to gossip, but I've overheard Ron and Hermione talking. I think the dreams are getting worse. Ron says that he's awakened almost every night by Harry's talking or screaming in his sleep".

"Ummmm...", Dumbledore said, as he sat behind his desk, lost in thought. "Has he been practicing his Occlumency?"

"Not according to Hermione. I overheard her admonishing him to try harder. The way she told it, it doesn't look like Harry's trying to block them out".

"Ummmm...", was his only reply. "Most unfortunate. I was afraid he'd do something like this".

"He wants to challenge Whatshisname on his own?"

"Yes, I'm afraid he is, and for once, I agree with Professor Snape and his assessment of Mr. Potter. But that need not concern you".

"About these Death Eaters..."

"The Ministry made that problem for themselves. If they won't take my advice, then it's out of my hands. I warned them".

"If you don't mind, Professor, but Harry asked me if I would ask: why are you being so indifferent all of a sudden? You haven't been paying him any attention..."

"I have my reasons that don't concern you..."

"I promised I'd ask".

"Yes, of course, and you're fulfilling a promise, as any loyal friend should. I am not at liberty to say, but you can assure Mr. Potter that I have his best interests in mind, and for him to be patient for now".

"I'll do that".

"That will be all", as Dumbledore dismissed him.

"What did he say?", Harry asked as soon as Jadin stepped out of the spiral escalator.

"Just like I figured: he basically told me to mind my own damn business, but not in so many words, or so directly. He did, however, tell me to tell you that he's still thinking of you, and that he is acting in your best interests".

"That's it! _Nothing_ about why he won't see me?"

"All I can do is ask, but that's all I got: Dumbledore said that he's acting with your best interests in mind. As for what he's up to, your guess is as good as mine. We'll just have to wait and see".

"What else did he want this time?"

"He wanted to know more about the capabilities of Impmon's digivolutions", Jadin lied.

"I don't get it, and it's driving me nuts", Harry complained.

"He doesn't take me into his confidence either. I ask, and get the run-around. The only thing I can tell you is that it may have something to do with you and that psychic connection you have with Whatshisname. He has made a few veiled references, if that's of any help".

"Thanks for trying".

The next incident involved the Divination professor: Sybil Trelawney. She was standing in the middle of the entrance hall, surrounded by various items of luggage which had been thrown down the stairs.

She was holding an empty bottle of cooking sherry, drunk as a skunk.

"NO! NO! This can't be happening!", she said with a furry tongue. "You can't..."

"Actually, I can", came that voice of _faux_ pleasantness of the High Inquisitor. "Even though you have failed at everything, even predicting tomorrow's weather, even you should have been able to foresee your dismissal. After failing several inspections, even you should have been able to predict your dismissal from the faculty".

It looked as though Umbridge was enjoying tormenting the x-professor.

"Y-y-y-y-ou c-c-c-can't... do this! H-h-h-hogwart's has b-b-b-been my h-h-h-home for s-s-s-sixteen years!"

"'Has been' being the operative words here. It would be best for you to leave with a modicum of dignity so as to not further embarrass either yourself or Hogwart's".

Professor McGonagall was pushing her way through the gathering crowd. She put an arm around Trelawney, handed her a hanky.

"Calm yourself", McGonagall reassured. "No one's forcing you to leave Hogwart's"

"Y-y-y-you... mean it?"

"And just who gave you...", Umbridge began to protest.

The main doors swung open, and Dumbledore stepped through, as if on cue.

"That would be me, Madam", he announced.

"Now see here, Professor", Umbridge began to object. "The Minister has given the High Inquisitor – that would be me – full authority to dismiss any member of the faculty who's not measuring up"

"That is quite true", Dumbledore replied, still speaking as though in full command. "You do have that authority. However, you do not have the authority to evict anyone from the castle. That authority still resides with the Headmaster, and that would be me. It is my desire that Professor Trelawney remain here at Hogwart's for as long as she desires. Could I impose on you, Professor McGonagall, to help Sybil back to her rooms?"

Professor Flitwick had his wand out: "Locomotor luggage!"

Her bags followed like a puppy, as Sybil leaned on McGonagall.

"And what will you do when I hire a replacement who requires her lodgings?"

"Oh that won't be necessary for I have already hired a new Divination professor, and he will be perfectly comfortable with the first floor, so he won't be needing her lodgings".

"Now see here..."

"It is still within the authority of the Headmaster to hire new faculty. If you will check the Educational Decree establishing the office of High Inquisitor, you will find no provision that takes this decision from the Headmaster".

"Who could you get on such short notice?", Umbridge demanded.

There was a clip-clop of hooves. "May I introduce Hogwart's latest addition to the faculty: Firenze"

Umbridge was speechless, and knew to keep her mouth shut. Firenze was a centaur, and Umbridge had a definite problem with non-humans.

"I have been looking into adding a centaur to the staff. As you may or may not know, centaurs are well known for their divination abilities. I was fortunate enough to win over Firenze's agreement to at least try".

It was obvious that the High Inquisitor's plans had been thwarted once again, and there was nothing she could do about it.

_Hagrid's Cabin_

Impmon was awakened by persistent knocking at the door. He looked around, the only source of light came from the last of the dying embers in the fireplace. Impmon flicked up his index finger, and an orange fireball appeared, hovering just above his fingertip. He used this to light his way to the door. He lifted the heavy latch and swung open the door.

"Dobby begs Master Impmon's pardon...", the small figure with a very long, thin nose, not the slightest trace of hair on a head too large for the rest of his body, which was covered with a crude poncho-like piece of old material, a thin rope around the waist, bare feet, said in an overly apologetic tone.

"Uhhhh, wuz goinon?", Hagrid grunted, still half asleep.

"Visitor", Impmon replied, "Dobby". So this is a house elf, Impmon thought. He could see how they might be taken for digimon.

"Dobby?", Hagrid said, as he rolled over in his bed.

"Dobby begs Master Hagrid's pardon, but Master Dumbledore needs Master Impmon to come to his office right away. Dobby will take Impmon by way of the servants' entrance and passageways".

_Ravenclaw Dorms_

"Jadin, wake up", he was roused from a sound sleep. He looked up through sleep-filled eyes that took a few seconds to focus.

"Imp... Professor Flitwick?", he finally recognized the faculty head of House Ravenclaw, as he was about the same height as Impmon. He was carrying a lantern with a single candle burning inside. "What time is it anyway?", he asked.

"A little after 1:00AM", he replied.

"Uhhhh, wassup?", his roommate, Horace, asked.

"You need to come with me right now", he said. "Go back to sleep", he ordered Horace.

"I'll get dressed and then..."

"No time for that, you need to come at once".

He slipped his robe over his PJ's, gathered up his digivice and card carrier. Flitwick led the way towards Dumbledore's offices.

"Professor McGonagall? Impmon?", he asked as they had already arrived, and were waiting by the spiral escalator leading to the offices.

"You two: in", she ordered. This abruptness wasn't her usual style. Jadin and Impmon could only exchange questioning glances as they rode up.

McGonagall simply pushed open the door without bothering to knock first. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, still wearing his headmaster's robes. He was folding a piece of parchment into thirds. Next, he dripped some hot sealing wax over the seam, and pressed his signet ring into the wax.

He descended the short staircase to the lower, main level, and gently stroked the head of the bird Jadin thought was a scarlet macaw at first. The bird pulled his head from beneath a wing.

"Fawkes", he addressed his pet, "we need a look-out", Dumbledore gently requested, as if the bird understood every word. The bird's answer came with a flash of fire that seemingly burnt it to nothing.

"_What__thefuck!_"

"Fawkes is a phoenix", Dumbledore explained. "I'm afraid we don't have much time, and I apologize for calling you here this time of night on such short notice. Jadin, Impmon: you will have to leave at once".

"Where are we going?", Jadin asked.

Dumbledore returned to the upper level, Jadin and Impmon followed. Dumbledore opened a closet, and rummaged around briefly before reappearing with a small, fire blackened, iron kettle. It looked like it was just barely big enough to hold one averaged-sized can of baked beans. He set it on his desk, took out his wand: "Portus", he said as he tapped the kettle. The kettle emitted a bluish-violet light, the same colour of a corona discharge, and bounced on the desk as if moved by its own private earth quake. This continued for about five seconds; the kettle looked normal as ever once it settled down.

"I'm sending you two blocks south of Grimmauld Place. You are to go directly to Sirius' house. The address is number twelve". He handed Jadin the parchment: "Here is your letter of introduction...". He was interrupted by a flash of light, and a long, golden feather appeared out of thin air. Dumbledore reached out and caught it as it drifted towards the floor. "Fawkes' warning: Minerva, delay whoever it is for as long as you can". McGonagall left at once.

He handed Jadin a small, silver case about the same shape and size as a pager. It was the first thing that looked like technology he'd seen in a long while. "This is a 'Putter-Outter', press the red button to extinguish any source of light. Use it to kill the street lights. Press the green button to reverse the effect. I'm sending you by Portkey", he pushed the kettle towards the edge of the desk. "Jadin, Impmon, take hold of the kettle, and hold on tight". Impmon and Jadin did as asked, holding the kettle between them.

"How does this work?"

"It's a bit disorienting, but effective. No time to explain: on the count of three". Dumbledore took out his wand: "One (tap)... Two (tap)... Three". They both felt an immediate acceleration, the floor seemed to drop out from under their feet, their hands firmly welded to the kettle as they flew down what looked like a tunnel of light. Unlike a trip via digigate, they retained a sense of time, and felt the fierce slipstream that made conversation impossible. They seemed to be moving at an impossible velocity: they should have burned up like a falling meteor or satellite. If the passing lights were coming from the ground, then the tunnel effect they saw could only mean that they were moving at nearly the speed of light.

The landing was no harder than that of doing a long jump, but the kettle clattered to the ground, making more noise than Jadin would have liked to hear, as Impmon ran to retrieve it. Jadin looked around, there was a quarter moon rising to his left: "It should be this way", Jadin said.

They came to the street sign for Grimmauld Place, and Jadin took out Dumbledore's Putter-Outter. The buttons had inset LEDs. He pointed it at the nearest sodium vapour street light and pressed the button. The light went out immediately. There was no trace of an after glow from the red hot inner quartz tube. He clicked out another, and every one they passed. Grimmauld Place was a cul-de-sac, and Number 12 towards the back. Jadin saw that one house had an "11", and the next a "13". Between them, a vacancy that looked too narrow to be anything other than overlapping side yards.

"Lead on", he requested, and followed Impmon. Impmon banged at a front door Jadin couldn't see. "Hold your horses", Impmon heard someone say from behind the front door. The door opened into a foyer lit by many candles in holders, and to Jadin looked like a void in space with nothing around or over it. The door was filled by the form of a rather grotesque looking man. He was leaning on a heavy, knobby, walking stick that looked like its other purpose was to serve as a club. He was missing half his nose, a scar slashed across his face. His right eye, an unremarkable brown. His left eye was missing, covered by a much larger, electric blue cybernetic eye held in place by a leather band as would an eye patch.

"_W__hothehellareyouw__hatthehellareyoudoingherehowdidyoufindthisplace__whatthehellareyou__?!_", he asked in a most aggressive manner, as his cybernetic eye scanned rapidly.

Jadin took out the parchment: "I have a letter of introduction from Professor Dumbledore".

He took the letter roughly from his hand: "Wait right here", he ordered, as he closed the door. Impmon could hear muffled voices, but could understand just snatches of the obviously heated discussion taking place inside: "Dumbledore", "Muggles", "Lost his...", "Can't have...". The door opened again, but this time, Sirius Black stood there, the other man leaning heavily on his walking stick in the background.

"I wondered when you would be paying us a visit. Come in, come in - don't worry, his bark's much worse than his bite", Sirius invited. "I'm Sirius Black, by the way".

"Harry's godfather? He's talked a lot about you".

"I hope he said good things".

As Sirius was closing the door behind them: "Oh wait", Jadin said as he pulled out the Putter-Outter and clicked the green button. At once, all the street lights were back on again. No delay as when first turning on a sodium vapour light.

"I'll take that", Mad Eye said. "...And that", meaning the kettle Impmon was still holding.

"Follow me", Sirius said as he led them towards a large room with two sliding oak doors. There was obviously some sort of meeting in progress. "Let me introduce everyone: Remus Lupin", he indicated a rather distinguished man who was a former Hogwart's Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, and who looked professorial.

"Nymphadora Tonks..."

"I hate that name; I go by just plain Tonks", she said. Tonks didn't look much older than Jadin, and had dyed her hair a bright pink.

"You've already met Mad Eye".

"Mad Eye, only to my friends", he said in such a manner to indicate this didn't include Jadin and Impmon.

"You already know Professor Snape"

"Professor", Jadin greeted.

"Mr. Weston".

"Arthur Weasley: Ron's father".

"Heard about that snake attack, hope you're feeling better", Jadin said.

"Good as new, thanks for asking".

"And Hestia Jones", Sirius introduced, going around the table in the order they'd seated themselves. "Everyone: this is Jadin Weston and Impmon".

"Hi", Impmon waved at the group.

"Hello all", Jadin greeted.

They'd heard all about Jadin and his unfamiliar "familiar", though this was the first time most of them actually met.

"Have a seat", Sirius invited, as he tapped the table with his wand, causing its length to increase. Two extra chairs appeared out of nowhere. Impmon hopped up, sliding his tail through the gap between the seat and back. Moody was grumbling about something as Jadin was sitting down. "What was that?", Sirius asked.

"I'm still an auror... if it was anyone but Dumbledore, I'd haul these two to the Ministry for obliviation... Muggles at a meeting of the Order... may be Albus really _is_ losing his mind. May be the _Prophet_ was right all along".

"Quite", Snape agreed. "If it _were _anyone but Albus, and if it were anyone other than Mr. Weston. Unlike most of my students, he tries to learn even if it does him no good. Speaking of my students, has Mr. Pot-ter been practicing his Occlumency?"

"I don't think so, Professor. I over heard Hermione arguing with Harry: she was telling him that he should be trying harder to shut out the dreams, and he blew her off. It would seem he's been keeping Ron awake almost every night. If you ask me, I don't think he wants to shut them out. I also worry that Whatshisname is setting him up for something having to do with the Department of Mysteries..."

"And what, pray tell, would _you_ know about the Department of Mysteries?", Snape sort of snapped at him.

"I'd bet that it's behind a black, featureless door at the end of a long, dark corridor dimly lit by torch light". Jadin noticed the looks of surprise being exchanged around the table. "That's what Harry says he sees in these dreams or visions".

"Upon what do you base your assumption?"

"If I were him, that's what I'd do. Feed him a dream about this mysterious corridor and door through that psychic connection. Do it repeatedly for months on end. Even if the dream was nightmarish, you'd get pretty curious about what was behind that door, wouldn't you? Pretty soon, you might even begin to look forward to this dream: may be tonight's the night you get to open the door, see what's behind it. Then let him watch in real time the attack against Mr. Weasley. That way, you'd figure the visions are for real, and that they're reliable. Then, begin feeding the disinformation, some propaganda that convinces you that going to the Department of Mysteries to recover whatever he's so desperate to acquire is doing a good thing. May be even that which leads to his down fall".

Snape propped his elbows on the table, hands clasped together to make a pyramid with his long index fingers under his chin. He looked at Jadin for an uncomfortably long time before saying anything.

"Courteous, respectful of his elders, astute: _all_ the qualities lacking in Mr. Pot-ter", he pronounced "Potter" with a sneer, an up turning of the lip, and an extra emphasis of contempt. "You have surmised correctly. That is the reason I tried teaching Pot-ter Occlumency, but he is just like his father: so arrogant that he believes he can fight the Dark Lord all by himself..."

"Isn't that a bit harsh, Severus?", Lupin asked.

"No, it is not", for the first time, Snape raised his voice. "I've known all along that Pot-ter had no intentions of learning and practicing Occlumency, and that I was wasting my time. However, Dumbledore requested that I try, and so I did. That was until I caught Pot-ter looking at my most private thoughts in my pensieve. That shows just what an arrogant, immature, foolish little brat Pot-ter really is. Harsh, Remus? You have no idea... If it was anybody but Dumbledore...", he said, echoing Moody's words and sentiment, "I would never agree in the first place".

Turning to Jadin: "Do you know the contents of the letter you brought with you?"

"No sir. The Professor was blotting it dry, and sealed it up as I was arriving. There was a certain urgency, and all he told me was that it was a letter of introduction".

"Mr. Weston, it would seem that you have been inducted into the Order of the Phoenix, you and your... ummmmm..."

"Partner. I'm Jadin's partner", Impmon said.

"Don't interrupt me again", Snape replied. "...as full members. I don't agree with this at all. We're not allowing Mr. Pot-ter and his friends to join as they are all under age, and you're no older. Though Wizarding Law doesn't apply to you, I hope you appreciate the jeopardy this places you in. And the trust the Professor, and the rest of the Order, is placing in you. Voldemort is hunting the Order even as the Order hunts him. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be getting back to Hogwart's".

Snape left the sitting room.

"Why did you have to leave so suddenly?", Tonks asked.

"I don't know. Professor Flitwick woke me, and I didn't even have time to get dressed. Then we went to the entrance to Dumbledore's office, and Dobby had brought Impmon with him. Fawkes warned us about someone coming, and the Professor send Professor McGonagall to head 'em off. Then he sent us here by Portkey. Something's going down, that much is obvious".

"I see...", Tonks was interrupted by a flash of light near the ceiling. A single golden feather floated to the table top.

"Fawkes' tail feather: what does it mean?", Impmon asked.

"Professor Dumbledore has gone into hiding", Sirius explained.

"What do you mean? Dumbledore's gone into hiding?", Jadin asked after the others attending the meeting had departed.

"He's been afraid something like this would happen sooner or later, that Fudge and the Ministry would move against him, remove him from his position as Hogwart's headmaster, perhaps even set him up to take a fall that would land him in Azkaban. Even if they could not convict him of a crime, a criminal trial would take much time and energy better devoted to building opposition to Voldemort. I'm sure you noticed even during your brief stay at Hogwart's that powerful political interests were moving against him. Now, it looks like his worst fears have been confirmed. He wouldn't have done this unless the aurors had come to arrest him, probably on trumped up charges", Sirius explained.

"Now what?"

"I don't know right offhand. He did send instructions that you and Impmon are to stay here. You are not to leave..."

"The hell you say! Mom... Dad?", Jadin asked.

"Harry already knows about digimon. He was there when Impmon transfigured..."

"Digivolved", Jadin corrected.

"OK, digivolved, and destroyed two Dementors. You have also heard that Harry and Voldemort have a psychic connection that was forged on the night that he was attacked as a mere baby. So far as we know, Potter is the only one to actually survive the Avada Kedavra - the killing curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses. For a long while, Voldemort was not aware of this connection, or that Harry was sensing his emotional states, receiving snatches of visions, or that he was able to sense his presence. However, after Harry's vision of the attack against Arthur Weasley, it is Dumbledore's belief that Voldemort has realized this connection exists. Harry saw the whole attack from the _snake's_ point of view. If he knows, then that psychic connection becomes a two way street: Voldemort could very well tap into Harry's memories and discover what he knows about digimon. If he finds out about Impmon, he _will_ come after you. Either to win you over to his side, or destroy the both of you if he can't. Knowing about digimon, he just might try to recruit digimon to his side. That was one of the reasons that Harry was supposed to learn Occlumency - to keep Voldemort and his visions out of his head. For whatever reason, Harry failed to do that, and as you know, the visions are continuing. It's just a matter of time until Voldemort learns about you, Impmon, digimon and what you are capable of", Sirius explained.

"Actually", he continued, "we're in the same boat. Since I'm the only remaining true family that Harry has, I have to stay under the protection of this house, and the security charms my father put in place so that Voldemort can't take me hostage as Harry would come to try to rescue me, and you can't leave because you know too much. There's just one other thing I need to take care of...", Sirius said.

"Kreacher!", he called out. "Kreacher! Get in here this instant!", he ordered. The Black family house elf appeared from the direction of the kitchen. Unlike Dobby, he was obviously elderly. He seemed too small to fit completely in his own skin, tufts of white hair grew out of his bat-like ears, eyes bloodshot and watery grey as if he'd been drinking heavily. He was completely naked, except for a filthy rag he wore as a loin cloth.

"Master called Kreacher?", he said.

"You see these two?", Sirius asked, pointing at Jadin and Impmon. "You are not to disturb them. You are not to mention that they are in this house to anyone. You are not to repeat anything you may overhear them say, or tell anyone about anything you may see them do. Not by word of mouth, not in writing, not drawing pictures: do you understand, Kreacher?"

"Yes, Master, Kreacher understand".

"Good. Now leave us".

"Yes, Master", as the old house elf turned to head back the way he came. "Mudbloods in Mistress' house bad enough. F'kin muggles - it's a good thing Mistress didn't live to see this", he muttered almost, but not quite, under his breathe.

"What was that all about?", Jadin asked.

"Kreacher was more my late mother's house elf than mine. Quite frankly, I don't 100% trust him, and I want to make certain he doesn't try to pull anything".

"If you don't trust him, then why not set him free?"

"So long as he remains bound, the enchantments that bind him make sure he never disobeys a direct order. I set him free, then he can blab whatever he knows to whomever he pleases. That would most likely be my cousin: Narcissa Malfoy. He might as well report directly to the Dark Lord himself. If you read the interview in _The Quibbler_, you're aware that Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater".

"Why treat him so badly?"

"Don't tell me Hermione's gotten to you too?"

"Actually, she has. It's disgraceful how house elves are treated".

"It's the way they are. Don't confuse them with digimon. They're just smart enough to do menial tasks, follow simple instructions, and they lack free will. Kreacher is _nothing_ like Impmon. Nothing at all, besides, freeing him would not be an act of kindness. He's too old to make the adjustment, and it would probably hasten his end. If you doubt that, ask him sometimes how he would feel about being released from his service".

"I still don't like it a damn bit, but it's your home, not mine. I also don't agree: from what little I've seen of him, it's obvious that Dobby is smarter than that. Just sayin' may be try a little more kindness? May be give him some cleaner cloth to cover himself with?"

"Yes, Hermione", he said sarcastically. "After putting up with all of his shit for all the years I lived here, he's getting better than he deserves... It's getting late - or early - depending on how you want to look at it, so I'll show you and Impmon to the guest bedroom. As for Dobby, every rule has its exception".

"I had to leave so suddenly, I didn't bring any clothes".

"Don't worry about that. I'll contact Mrs. Weasley. I'm sure one of her boys has something that'll fit you".

Sirius led the way: "When you come to this part of the house", Sirius explained in hushed tones, "be very quiet".

He pointed out a pair of long, moth and doxie eaten curtains. "Life size portrait of Mother's behind there, and you definitely do not want to arouse her", he warned. Jadin and Impmon looked at each other. They decided that asking for explication could wait.

They passed a row of plaques with shrunken heads mounted like little hunting trophies. They looked like house elf heads. Before they could ask: "The heads of deceased house elves who worked here. That one, there, was Kreacher's mother".

"Isn't that just a bit, well, _sick_?", Jadin asked.

"Yes, it is. It should be obvious by now what kind of magicians built this house those many years ago. You see, most families have their 'black sheep' (finger quotes). I, however, was the 'white sheep' of mine. I turned against the practice of Dark Arts, and pretty much got myself disowned. I would have lost the house were it not for an oversight in the preparation of a will. That, and the fact that I am the last of the line of Blacks. The height of irony was offering the house to Dumbledore to serve as the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix to oppose the darkest of Dark Wizards".

"Then why don't you get rid of shit like that?", Impmon asked.

"I _have_ gotten rid of as much as I could, but some things, like that hideous portrait of Mother, those house elf heads, and some other items have Permanent Sticking Charms that render it impossible to do so. Believe me: I've tried. Kreacher also has a habit of going through the garbage to rescue items that I'd rather not see again. He squirrels that stuff away where he thinks I won't find it".

At the second landing, Sirius pointed to a door off to the right: "Guest bedroom", he said. "It's been cleaned up, and you'll find it nice. It would be a good idea, though, to lock the door behind you. Kreacher has a habit of wandering the halls, and you don't want him waking you up in the middle of the night".

The guest bedroom had high ceilings, a fresh coat of paint, and comfortable four-poster beds. Impmon placed his fashion accessories on his night stand and flopped into bed, as Jadin took a few minutes to figure out how to turn off the beyond antiquated gas lamp chandelier.


	13. Gate of Destiny

**13) Gate of Destiny**

"I trust you slept well?", Sirius greeted as Jadin and Impmon were coming down the stairs. Since they were up so late last night, they were getting up later than usual.

"OK", Jadin said, "what with being in a new bedroom, everything that happened so suddenly and unexpectedly".

"I slept pretty good", Impmon said with a wake-up yawn.

"Kreacher didn't give you any problems?"

"None", Jadin and Impmon agreed.

"How about I whip us up some bacon and eggs?", Sirius suggested.

"Hash browns, toast, and OJ too?", Impmon asked. He was partial to that, as it was the first meal he was served after coming to the Material World.

"Sorry, no hash browns", Sirius apologized. "No OJ either: pumpkin juice instead. Toast, now that I can do. How do you like your bacon and eggs?"

"Bacon, crisp. Eggs with the centers somewhat runny, but not the consistency of snot the way you Brits usually serve them".

"Impmon!", Jadin reprimanded.

When Impmon first arrived, he had a mouth that could make a longshoreman blush. He'd made considerable progress in that regard, yet still had a tendency to speak in less than diplomatic terms.

"That's OK", Sirius told him, "I don't like my eggs that way either".

"What, exactly, is this 'Order of the Phoenix' we've been drafted for?", Jadin asked as they settled around the table in the kitchen.

"The original Order of the Phoenix was set up fourteen years ago to fight the Dark Lord the first time. We lost a lot of good people, including Harry Potter's parents - James and Lily, Neville Longbottom's parents - Frank and Alice, though they're still alive - are as good as gone, as they have never recovered from the torture they endured at my cousin Bellatrix's hands. Marlene McKinnon and her whole family... a lot of good folks. Not even muggles were spared, as I was framed for the killing of thirteen muggles.

Now that Youknowwho's back, Professor Dumbledore has reconstituted the Order. We have some original members, like Alistair Moody and Remus Lupin, but there aren't many who survived. We have mostly new members like Tonks".

"Excuse me, if I may, but _why_ is this necessary? If you're facing such a dire threat, then why isn't your Ministry of Magic handling the situation? Isn't that one of its functions?", Jadin asked.

"Jadin, one thing you need to know is that, despite the fact that a lot of people in our community think they're so superior to muggles and half-bloods, the truth is: we're not so different. How do you think we've been able to hide ourselves for all these centuries? Because our spells are so powerful, our charms so efficient? Because we're so smart? The answer is no, and the real answer you might find surprising: you muggles do at least 80% of our work for us. If muggles would open their eyes and their minds, we would be in big trouble. People don't like to have their world view upset. So they tend to ignore, dismiss, explain away anything that poses a threat to that comfortable little cocoon they build for themselves. How is it that you can walk down the street in broad daylight with Impmon? What do they think when they see that weird little digimon? Kid in a costume? Some sort of publicity? They find any excuse to explain his appearance away don't they? Muggles see the effects of magic a lot more frequently than you'd expect. They see the same magical beings and animals we do. They always find 'logical explanations' (finger quotes) don't they?"

"Yeah, they do", Jadin agreed. "Sometimes we say we're Furries out fursuiting. So far, no one's questioned that".

"Youknowwho's last rampage fourteen years ago was _highly_ upsetting. A lot of innocent bystanders were injured and even killed. People don't want to think about it; they want to believe desperately that it can't happen again. Jadin, the teller of pleasant lies, like Cornelius Fudge, will _always_ be more popular than those who tell uncomfortable truths, even if their very lives depend on that uncomfortable truth. Mr. Potter is just some sixfteen year old kid, how can he know better than 'responsible' authorities, he's just seeking attention, he's trying to keep his fame from winning the Triwizard Tournament going, therefore we can ignore him. Professor Dumbledore is an old man way past his prime, or he's plotting to take over as Minister of Magic _despite_ the fact that, if he wanted it, he could have had it a half-dozen times over, therefore we can ignore him. Cedric Diggory's death was just a terrible accident, therefore it means nothing. They can even justify the smear campaign against Potter and Dumbledore as protecting the public from mass panic. They are far more adept at making excuses than simply accepting the truth that's starring them right in the face..."

"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt", Jadin commented.

"No, it certainly is not", Sirius replied after pausing to decipher that Americanism. "Albus Dumbledore tried to tell us what we needed to hear instead of what we wanted to hear. That cost him greatly: he was removed as Chief Justice of the Wizengamot, voted out as Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards, he may be stripped of his Order of Merlin, First Class. He may lose his school, and, yes, even his freedom. Because he is that voice that keeps saying: 'No: all is _not_ right with your world'. Look to your muggle history, do you not see the same story repeated again and again?"

"No good deed ever goes unpunished".

"Indeed. And this is where the Order of the Phoenix comes in. We are an organization that is doing its best to wake people up to the threat. We have operatives putting known Death Eaters under surveillance, we have detectives going over every word from the press: the _Daily Prophet_, _The Quibbler_, and muggle news sources looking for any sign of Voldemort's activities. We are gathering intelligence on possible Dark Wizards who might go over to his side; dark beings who might provide the foot soldiers and cannon fodder. It is unfortunate, but wizards have a long history of mistreating others such as the goblins and house elves. Promises of freedom and a brighter future and revenge for historical wrongs won't be falling on deaf ears. Once again, we see the pleasant lie being preferred over the hard truth: Voldemort has no intentions of granting anyone any freedom. He will enslave everyone: magicians, goblins, elves, muggles..."

"Digimon", Jadin added.

"Yes, digimon too. We are trying to bring in as many new members as we can. It's not easy, as we are asking others to put their very carrers, if not their lives, on the line. Believe me, there aren't that many veterans of the original Order left alive. Of course, some of our members need to keep a low profile, people like Arthur Weasley and Tonks. Fudge announced a long time ago that any Ministry employees who are sympathetic to Dumbledore can clear out their desks, and he has made good on the threat. We do need eyes and ears inside the Ministry because you can be certain Voldemort has his own eyes and ears inside the Ministry. Some of us are not able to do active recruiting. Remus Lupin, being a werewolf, has that going against him. Doesn't matter that wolfsbane helps him keep his mind, people still hear 'werewolf' and react with instinctive fear. Yes, even within the magical community.

"Dumbledore is also not the least bit adverse to going outside the magical community for allies. We are a small group - too small - but we're doing the very best we can with what we have. I hope this answers your question".

"It does. I just hope I don't disappoint".

"I don't think you will".

"How about Hogwart's? Any chance I can get a message through to Hermione?"

"Have you seen this morning's edition of the _Daily Prophet_?"

"Can't say I did".

"See for yourself", as he handed over the paper. Right there on the front page: **DELORES UMBRIDGE NAMED NEW MISTRESS OF HOGWARTS**

"I think it highly inadvisable for you to be contacting anyone at Hogwart's. You will only endanger your friends' futures. Undoubtedly, all lines of communication in or out of Hogwart's will be monitored closely".

Jadin rubbed his eyes between thumb and index finger: "That bitch... those poor kids", he said. If there was anyone less suited to take Professor Dumbledore's place, he could not imagine who that might be. "There goes your plans for gaining new members. This just confirms everyone's worst suspicions about the Professor. What credibility do you have now?"

"I know it looks bad, but you have to remember that Dumbledore is a gambler. He isn't one to shy away from taking high risk chances. You can be sure he has something definite in mind. He does nothing by accident".

The rest of the day, Jadin and Impmon had no choice but to remain in the house. Molly Weasley would not be arriving until after dark, and Jadin had nothing to wear other than his pajamas and Hogwart's robe. No one arrived by daylight, as it would look to any muggles as though people were simply vanishing into thin air, or reappearing outside the house from nowhere. Something like that could not be kept off the air and/or the 'Net for very long, and any such reports would alert Voldemort as to the location of the Order's headquarters.

He'd been introduced to Buckbeak, the hippogryph whose life Sirius had saved, and in turn, who had provided Sirius with the means of escaping Hogwart's and the Dementors sent to give him the Dementor's Kiss in retaliation for his escaping Azkaban. Buckbeak was now living in Sirius' mother's old bedroom, which had been turned into a makeshift stable. This was necessary, as the order from the Department of Magical Creatures, Dangerous Animals Division to have him put down had never been rescinded. Kreacher was still highly upset over this desecration of his Mistress' bedroom. Jadin suspected this was the reason Sirius chose that particular room. Sirius was pleased to learn that both Jadin and Impmon knew how to help care for him, as a large, bored hippogryph was a handful.

Jadin and Impmon admired a very old, but still attractive tapestry that occupied an entire wall. The tapestry was entitled: "The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black". There was a subtitle: "Toujours Pur" - "Always Pure". There was the inevitable fading through the ages, but the golden thread still shone like new, and Jadin realized it wasn't just gold coloured thread, but actually fine gold wire. The tapestry was Sirius' family tree, with names and dates going all the way back to the Middle Ages.

"It's a damn shame that someone vandalized such a fine work of art, and destroyed a valuable antique", he commented when Sirius saw him admiring it.

"My name used to be here", he said, as he pointed to a burn mark.

"But who would destroy it?", he asked.

"That would be my dear, departed mother", he replied with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "If it were up to me, this is another item that would have gone out with the trash".

"Sticking charm?"

"Exactly. She did that after I ran away from home when I was sixteen".

"Where did you go? It's not easy being on your own when you're sixteen. I couldn't imagine what I would do if I left my parents - not that I would, of course".

"At first, I went to live with James Potter - Harry's father. Harry's grandparents sort of 'adopted' (finger quotes) me as a second son. A year later, I'd established myself enough to get a place of my own, and my uncle, Alphard - his name used to be here...", Sirius pointed to another burn mark. "...and he left me a nice sum in his will, which explains why his name isn't here. I was always welcome by the Potters".

"If you don't mind my asking, why did you run away? If I'm not getting too personal, I mean".

"I don't mind talking about it, and the answer is really quite simple: I hated them with a passion. The whole lot of them: my parents for their blood bigotry, and their arrogance. They believed that simply being a Black made you 'royalty' (finger quotes). Then there was my asshole brother who was stupid enough to believe every word of it... That's him, right there", Sirius pointed to a name: Regulus Black. Regulus had died some sixteen years ago.

"He was the 'good son', and my parents never missed an opportunity to point that out. The damn fool signed up as one of Voldemort's initial group of Death Eaters. That's what got him killed".

"Did your parents also join Voldemort?"

"They had better sense than that. It wasn't for a lack of agreement: they shared Voldemort's desire to purge the Wizarding World of its 'undesirables' - the 'mudbloods'. They weren't alone, and at first, a distressingly high proportion of the magical community thought he had the right ideas as to how the Wizarding World should be run. It wasn't until Voldemort began showing his true colours that they had second thoughts. My parents, however, treated Regulus like he'd done some great and heroic thing. That, too, I had to grow up with: my 'cowardice' contrasted to his 'courage'. Unfortunately for him, he discovered that Voldemort has just the one retirement plan", he said, as he pointed to the date of Regulus' death.

"I haven't looked at this in years...", Sirius said with an almost wistful tone. "Here's my great, great grandfather: Phineas Nigellus, probably the least popular, most incompetent headmaster in Hogwart's history. He was also inducted into House Slytherin - big surprise there, right? Here's Araminta Meliflur, cousin on my mother's side. She tried to ram through the Ministry legislation to establish a Muggle hunting season, complete with bag limits. Nice, huh? Oh, and here's dear old Aunt Elladora: she established our retirement plan for our house elves, beheading them when they got too old to work anymore..."

"So she's the one responsible..."

"...For our 'trophies'? Yes, that's her".

"How...?"

"House elves are enchanted to obey their masters. Order them to kneel before the block and they do it, even if they know what's coming. They have no choice".

"That's _disgusting_!"

"Oh, but it's cost effective: it saves on having to take care of them in their old age", he said with heavy sarcasm. "Any time the family produced anyone with a shred of decency, they were disowned... I see Tonks isn't here".

"You're related to Tonks? The one at the meeting?"

"The very same: her mother, Andromeda, was always my favourite cousin... Nope, not there either", as he pointed to yet another burn mark between the names Narcissa and Bellatrix. "Her sisters are still there since they married into 'respectable' pure blood families".

"So you're also related by marriage to the Malfoy's?"

"Some family history to be proud of", he said sarcastically.

Impmon was also studying the tapestry: "So all these names are somehow all connected?", he asked.

"Yes, one line of descendants, marriages between families, leading to another".

"We do things differently where I come from".

"Oh?", Sirius asked.

"I hatched from a digiegg in the Primary Village. Two weeks later, a couple of impmon claimed me and took me to their home in the Violet Zone - that part of the Digital World claimed by we impmon".

"You were adopted?"

"All digimon are, or they stay in the Primary Village and are raised from the Fresh level".

"So who are your foster parents?"

"Their digital IDs are: 0x00884CFE63C8026198, and 0x00884C889219B3DF. Mine's: 0x0088459C7382054D", giving the digital codes in hexadecimal, as they'd be written in C or C++.

"Digital IDs?", Sirius asked.

"Every digimon has one: unique to the individual. Here, I go by 'Impmon' because it's convenient for humans to remember. Other than that, this business of parents and children is unfamiliar to me, and I can't imagine how this 'aunt', 'uncle', 'cousin' business operates. Why do you give a damn what these other people did in a past that you can't do anything about? You're only responsible for what you do, aren't you?"

"Yes, that's true, but here we are known by the reputation of our families, and their acts still reflect on _our_ reputations. That's why I'm none too happy to have to admit that I'm related to these people. It's especially important to us since we differentiate between pure bloods, half-bloods, and muggle-born... I've lost you, haven't I?", Sirius asked, judging from Impmon's expression.

"Yeah, you sure did", he walked away. "Damn strange, these humans", they heard him say to himself. Sirius was thinking the same of digimon and their familial system.

Well after dark, Molly Weasley came calling, and made the mistake of ringing the doorbell. The portrait of Black's mother started shrieking, followed by Impmon's unmistakable accent: "Night of Fire!"

"It burns! It burns!", Sirius' mother was screaming.

Sirius ran upstairs. To his horror, the curtains that covered the portrait were going up in flames, fire spreading up and over the ceiling. He ran past Impmon, grabbed a CO2 fire extinguisher from a nearby closet, and put out the fire Impmon caused.

"What did you do?!", he demanded.

"Disgraceful! Mudbloods! In my house! Blood traitor!", the woman in the picture continued screaming.

"Shut the _fuck_ up, mother!", Sirius demanded, as he aimed the extinguisher at his mother's face until it was covered in CO2 frost. The portrait fell silent.

"Sorry 'bout that", Impmon said. "I was just coming downstairs after feeding Buckbeak his ration of rats, the bell rang as I was walking past the curtains when they opened and that thing screamed. I was startled, and attacked on reflex... What the hell was that? Some sort of plasma screen TV?"

Jadin and Molly were just now arriving.

"No, it isn't. My _dear_ mother (sarcasm) bewitched her portrait and placed a Permanent Sticking Charm on it before she died. Whenever it's disturbed - and I keep trying to warn visitors not to ring the doorbell - it starts up with that screaming. It wasn't your fault; there's just no way to adequately prepare anyone for that".

"You didn't use a charm to put out the fire?", Molly asked.

"I figured a plain old fire extinguisher might be a good idea for a house that uses gas jets for lighting. Only now...", he looked at the still silent portrait, "...I just might have found another use for it... Mother: you start up again, and you get another face full of dry ice! Capice?". The portrait remained silent.

Molly, Jadin, and Sirius rigged up a temporary covering from a heavy blanket nailed to the wall to cover the portrait.

Crisis over, everyone returned to the downstairs.

"I brought an assortment of clothes I borrowed from the boys. I'm sure they won't mind".

"I thank you so very much", Jadin replied. "I hope you didn't have to go too far out of your way".

"With apparition, there's no such thing. Arthur's talked so much about you... Ron wrote from school... So you're a muggle?"

"That's right, I hope they said good things".

"Oh they did! Author's quite interested in muggles, and Ron said you were doing pretty well in your classes at school. Any friend of Harry's and Ron's is a friend of ours... So you're a digimon?", she asked as she turned to Impmon.

"That's right: Impmon", he said as he extended a hand.

"Pleased to meet you", she replied, as she shook hands.

_12 Grimmauld Place: Drawing Room_

Alistair Moody, Tonks, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, were assembled around the table.

"Thanks, Impmon, Jadin for helping out with Buckbeak. I still don't see how he could have hurt himself like that, but it looks like he'll be fine in a day or two", Sirius announced as they joined the meeting.

"Now can we get down to business? We were going to hear from Mr. Shacklebolt about what happened at Hogwart's", Remus Lupin said.

"We heard from Dolores Umbridge that she had uncovered an illegal student organization that had called itself 'Dumbledore's Army'. It had been arranged by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. The minister and the High Inquisitor, I, and John Dawlish went to confront the Professor about this.

Umbridge had a student informant, one Marietta Edgecombe, whose mother works for the Ministry. The poor girl thought she was doing her duty, as she saw it. Unfortunately for her, she didn't realize that the membership roster had a jinx on it. This caused her face to break out in zits that spelled 'Sneak' across her face. She was understandably upset and embarrassed by her appearance. This did, however, make for a convenient distraction.

The Professor was confronted with evidence that the meeting where the formation of Dumbledore's Army was discussed had taken place in Hogsmeade at the Hogshead tavern during one of the Hogsmeade weekend outings. Unfortunately, one Willy Widdershins overheard the planning of Dunbledore's Army. This information he exchanged for being let off after being caught pranking the toilets of public restrooms.

"This was true, however, that meeting occurred two days before the decree that made unregistered student organizations illegal, so there was no violation of any existing school rules. At this point, I covertly altered Ms. Edgecombe's memory to make her believe that there had been no subsequent, and illegal, meetings. At this point, there being no evidence of any violations of Umbridge's decrees, it looked as though the Professor was going to win this little battle of wills with Umbridge and the Minister. If it had worked out, then Hogwart's High Inquisitor would have been thoroughly discredited.

"Unfortunately, solid evidence in the form of a membership roster was recovered from the Room of Requirement. Professor Dumbledore 'confessed', and told Minister Fudge exactly what he wanted to hear: that he created Dumbledore's Army as an advance force that would overthrow the Ministry. By a lucky coincidence they had named their group after the Professor and not Mr. Potter. It was precisely what Fudge _wanted_ to believe: that Dumbledore had long been plotting against him.

"I was, of course, ordered to arrest the Professor. It was at this point, he deployed an unconsciousness jinx, and escaped. When we recovered moments later, Dumbledore was gone, and Fudge ordered us to search the campus. He did not apparate, as Hogwart's has anti-apparation charms in effect, nor did he escape via the Floo Network, as all the fires at the school are under constant surveillance. It's obvious that Dumbledore had arranged this in advance. His whereabouts remain unknown.

"As for the current situation at Hogwart's, Mr. Potter and his companions are still safely enrolled, as was Dumbledore's intention when he made his false confession. As you're already aware, Dolores Umbridge has replaced Dumbledore as Head Mistress. She immediately formed a new student group, the Inquisitorial Squad, lead by Draco Malfoy, and whose membership consists of his associates, and others from Slytherin. Umbridge has empowered this group to add and deduct points from the four houses - something that up till now was solely the prerogative of faculty and administration, not student organizations".

"Any communications from Dumbledore? Any idea as to when he's coming back?", Tonks asked.

"None. He has made no attempt to contact anyone, and, as for his whereabouts, that's a complete mystery. As for when he's returning... I simply do not know".

Suddenly, a silvery doe appeared to everyone but for Jadin. Impmon interpreted for him. It was Professor Snape's patronus relaying a message: Harry and his friends had departed Hogwart's with Umbridge. They were last seen heading into the Forbidden Forest. Harry was convinced that he needed to get to the Department of Mysteries, as he believed Sirius was in some sort of trouble. Snape said he was still searching the forest, and hoped to find Harry, but could not guarantee he wasn't either on his way, nor that he hadn't arrived already.

"I strongly suspected something like this was gonna happen", Jadin said. "Those damned visions".

"No matter now", Mad Eye said. "We'd better intercept him before he gets himself in a real bind. If the Dark Lord wants him to go there, it can't be for the better".

"I'm coming too..."

"No you're not! The Professor ordered you to stay here. You go out, and you could be sent back to Azkaban".

"Like _hell_ I'm staying!", Sirius protested. "If Voldemort's lured Harry and his friends to the Department, you'll need all the help..."

"And Dumbledore wanted you to stay here..."

"Why? There's no reason for that, besides, Impmon and Jadin can handle relaying messages to Dumbledore. I've been cooped up here in this house long enough..."

"You ain't the only one", Jadin said, "We're going too..."

"No, you're not!", Mad Eye explained. "Someone needs to be here in case Dumbledore shows up, and that means _you_. I can't do anything to prevent Sirius from coming, but you two are staying. You don't have any choice because neither of you can apparate, so you're stuck. I still protest your going, Sirius".

"You can't keep me away, not if Harry's in danger". The five wizards disappeared in a flash of light.

"Now what?", Impmon asked.

"I don't know what that damn fool kid's gone and done this time, but I have a real bad feeling about this", Jadin replied. "Harry's judgment is questionable, but those friends of his would follow him right off a cliff... I guess we wait for Dumbledore. I hope Hermione's alright. I guess she couldn't talk them out of it".

"I hope they're all OK", Impmon agreed.

With a flash of fire, Dumbledore arrived. It was obvious how he'd been traveling: by using Fawkes, the phoenix. They materialized, with Dumbledore still holding onto Fawkes' long tail feathers. The phoenix perched on the back of a chair and began preening his feathers.

"I got Severus' message, where are they?", he asked.

"Mad Eye, Sirius, Tonks, Remus, and Kingsley said they were going to the Department of Mysteries. We haven't heard anything since they left".

"When was that?"

"Maybe a half hour, 45 minutes, ago. They said that Harry thought Sirius was in some sort of trouble, but he's been here all day. We were upstairs taking care of Buckbeak, so I don't understand how he could..."

"Because _Kreacher_ sent Harry Potter there!", the house elf laughed heartily.

"You...", Dumbledore said.

"Kreacher made sure Sirius would be upstairs, Kreacher hurt that beast that's been defiling Mistress' bedroom. When Harry Potter appeared in the kitchen fire, Kreacher told Harry Potter Sirius was at the Department of Mysteries, just like Lucius Malfoy told Kreacher...", he found this so hilarious he couldn't say more.

"_Why_ would you do such a horrible thing?", Impmon demanded.

"If the Dark Lord kicks Sirius' ass, then Kreacher gets to live here with Mistress' memories, and Sirius won't be throwing away Mistress' things. If Master returns, and kills Kreacher, Kreacher goes to be with Mistress forever. Master make Kreacher sleep in the boiler room on piles of old, dirty rags, while the digi-freak and muggle get a fine bed in the guest room. Purple fur over everything that Kreacher has to clean up. Kreacher have _nothing_ to lose!", and he laughed again.

Impmon flicked up a fire ball: "No, Impmon, put it away", Jadin told him.

"What more can you do to torment this pathetic creature?", Dumbledore asked.

"Fawkes!", Dumbledore called out.

"You're taking us too!", Impmon demanded.

"No..."

"Then why the hell have you kept us cooling our heels, first at Hogwart's, and now here? If you're not gonna let us help, then let us go", Jadin complained.

"All right. Jadin, Impmon, hold onto my robes good and tight". As Fawkes swooped low, Dumbledore grabbed onto the golden tail feathers.

Jadin, Impmon and Dumbledore arrived in an instant. They were standing in front of a door, and they could hear the muffled sounds of a fight going on on the other side. Dumbledore pushed open the door, leading into what looked like a lecture hall of some sort. Stone bleachers rose tier upon tier, for some twenty feet at least. These surrounded an open area. Red and green lights blazed all around the room, people were yelling back orders and curses amidst the chaos.

Impmon leaped through the door, landing on the third tier of seats below the door: "Jadin!", he called out.

Jadin already had his digivice out, and a card from his carrier. Dumbledore barely registered that this card was uniform, featureless, so far as he could see, sky blue: "Straight to Ultimate".

"Matrix evolution!"

_Impmon evolve! …_

**... CYBERDRAMON!**

In the darkened room, the dark grey digimon looked black, as he soared into the room. Dumbledore ran down the stone bleachers as fast and as agile as someone a lifetime younger.

"DUBBLEDORE!", Neville called out. His nose had been smashed, his sinuses filled with blood, and his pronunciation off. Harry and Neville looked up.

There was a knot of three Death Eaters off to the left. They'd been firing spells at two figures Jadin recognized as Harry, and Harry's friend Neville, and also at Shacklebolt and Remus. Cyberdramon powered up his attack, as blue particles of data were gathering.

"Erase claw!", the three Death Eaters stopped moving, as perfectly circular, bloodless holes appeared; these grew until there was no trace of them left.

Dumbledore had run past Harry and Neville, and was nearly at the bottom when the remaining Death Eaters realized who had just arrived. They scattered in all directions, one running up the bleachers on all fours, like a cat or dog. Dumbledore flicked his wand, and reeled that one in as easily as a fly fisherman casting a fly.

Just two were left, still going at it: Sirius and his cousin, Bellatrix. Harry was in a good position to see. Sirius dodged a red burst of light. "All those years in Azkaban have slowed you down!", he taunted. His voice echoed through the room. "C'mon, you can do better than that!", as he paused to laugh at her.

Sirius made two critical errors: he'd allowed Bella to maneuver herself between him and a stone archway. And he stopped paying attention. The second burst of red connected solidly. His eyes widened in shock, even though the laughter had not had time to leave his face completely. To Harry, it was like watching a video in slow motion, as Sirius fell backwards, as gracefully as though he was doing a back flip from the high dive platform. Harry let go of Neville, whose head hit the stone step behind him, without ever being aware of letting Neville go. Sirius fell backwards through a black veil that hung over the arch.

Harry clearly saw the look on his face: fear and surprise as he disappeared behind the veil that fluttered briefly, as though caught in a gust of wind, before settling back to fluttering and swaying in an unfelt, gentle breeze. He heard Bellatrix's triumphant cheer and laughter, but what did that mean? After all, Sirius had just fallen through the opening, and would undoubtedly reappear from the other side. Any second now...

But he didn't.

"Sirius?", Harry called out. He got no answer. "Sirius!", he called out more urgently, now running for the dais. "SIRRRRIUSSSS!"

"HARRY! STAY AWAY FROM THAT DAMN THING!", Jadin called out as he began to run down the bleachers, taking them two at a time. "Cyberdramon!", he called out, "Stop Harry!"

Just as Harry was about to step up onto the dais, Cyberdramon landed directly in front of him: "You shall not pass!", he growled through bared fangs.

"Get out of my way!", Harry demanded, as Lupin grabbed him around the chest from behind.

"There's nothing you can do...", Lupin began to explain.

"Get him! Save him! He's just gone through!", Harry pleaded.

"It's too late..."

"We can still reach him..."

"That's a one-way ticket straight to /dev/null!", Jadin explained, as he leaped off the last tier of seats.

"He's _not_ gone!", Harry insisted. He didn't believe them, he couldn't believe them. Neither of them knew: people hid behind the curtain: he'd heard them when he had passed through this room before, when it was quiet enough to hear. He knew he wasn't crazy because Luna had heard them too. They were back there, whispering. Sirius was hiding for some reason.

"SIRIUS! SIRRRRIUSSSS!", he called out again.

"He can't come back, Harry", Lupin said, his voice breaking as he fought to hold onto a struggling Harry (he wasn't as young as he used to be). "He can't come back because he's de..."

"HE IS NOT DEAD!", Harry roared as loudly as he could. Why couldn't Lupin, Jadin, and Cyberdramon understand? Sirius was probably lying on the dais on the opposite end of that archway, may be he was just stunned from his fall? May be he was hurt badly and needed their help, but why weren't they doing anything about that? Why didn't it occur to them?

Yet, hadn't Sirius always been there for him? Didn't he even risk his freedom - his very life - just to see Harry play Quidditch? If he wasn't coming now... then there was only one thing that could keep him away... He _couldn't_ come back.

"Harry", it was Neville, who somehow made his way to Harry's side, despite that he couldn't control his legs. "Harry... I'b reawwy sowwy... Was dat man... was he a fren ub yours?"

Harry nodded.

"Here", Lupin pointed his wand at Neville: "Finite". The spell that made his legs dance uncontrollably was lifted, and Neville could stand once again.

Dumbledore had the remaining Death Eaters under control, and Kingsley Shacklebolt had picked up Sirius' duel with Bellatrix. Moody, his eye temporarily misplaced, had made his way to Tonks, who lay motionless. He was trying to revive her.

"Thank you, Jadin and Cyberdramon, for stopping Harry. How... how did... you know?", Lupin asked.

Jadin glared angrily, first at Lupin, then at Dumbledore: "Stop _bullshitting_ me!", he demanded.

"I don't under...", Lupin started, seemingly perplexed at this reaction to his question.

Jadin turned to face the pointed, stone archway set in the center of a stone dais: obviously ancient, so cracked and crumbling he was amazed that it still stood. A black veil hung over the entrance, as it fluttered slightly, as though someone had just walked through it. There was a certain odd beauty to it. The swaying curtain almost hypnotic and compelling.

"You have been lying to me, haven't you? Don't know anything about the Digital World, and all along...".

He turned back to face Lupin and Dumbledore: "_That_ is a Gate of Destiny!", he said as he pointed back towards the arch.

"From the Ancient Times, before digimon", Cyberdramon explained. Cyberdramon reached towards it with his right paw: "Gate of Destiny: close!", he ordered.

The stone arch emitted a golden light, seeming to go almost translucent, as it began to digivolve. It transformed into a golden ring. Around the periphery were digicode symbols: the written language of digimon. The opening in the center looked like gently rippling water, giving a visual impression very much like that of the fluttering veil. Two golden doors covered in an intricate pattern slid together along a broken line dividing them roughly in half. It began to rotate, then throw off golden particles of data, like a Catherine wheel. It then burst into a shower of golden particles that spread out, dissipated, and disappeared. The stone dais stood quite empty. Harry could only think that his last chance to rescue Sirius had disappeared before his eyes. Lupin let Harry go, now that the danger was gone.

"Jadin, we didn't know", Dumbledore said gently. "The Ministry isn't going to like this. This is called the 'Death Chamber' for a reason: we study the mystery of death here. Now, you have deprived us of the means to do that".

"It was never yours", Cyberdramon snarled at him. "It's my duty as a digimon to confiscate or destroy dangerous Digital World artifacts that make their way into the Material World".

"Let's find the others", Lupin suggested. "Where are they, Neville?", he asked.

"Dere all back dere", he said. "A brain addacked Ron. but I dink he's awrighd, and Herbione's unconscious, bud we could feel a bulse..."

He was interrupted by a bang. Kingsley screamed in pain as he went down. Bellatrix turned and ran as Dumbledore spun around, firing a spell at her, which she deflected. She was already half way up the bleachers.

"Harry! No!", Lupin called out.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS", he yelled back, "AND I'M GONNA KILL HER!" as he chased after her. Her robe flashed through the door back where Dumbledore had entered. As he ran through the room with the tank containing the disembodied brains, Bellatrix fired off a spell behind her shoulder as she ran. The tank tipped, drenching Harry in the fluid it contained, as its contents spilt across the floor.

"Wingardium leviosa!" he called out, to clear the path. He leaped over Luna, who was lying on the floor, groaning. Past Ginny who called out: "Harry... what the...", as she wondered why he wasn't stopping to help, past Ron who was giggling like a maniac, past an inert Hermione. He pulled open the door leading into the circular hallway, but he was too late. Bellatrix was disappearing through a doorway on the opposite end, and slammed the door shut behind her.

The circular hallway began to rotate, the candles burning with an unnatural blue light, became streaks of light. (This being a security measure to deter unauthorized access) All he could do was wait until the hallway came to a stop. "Where's the exit?! Where's the way out?!", he called in desperation to no one in particular. Behind him, he heard a door open. He saw this door opened onto the wide corridor leading to the lifts. He ran down this corridor, heard a lift start. He pressed the call button, and tore open the sliding gate. He hit the button labeled "Atrium". The turn of the last century lift started upwards, not going anywhere near fast enough to suit him.

As it arrived, Harry forced open the gate before the lift had come to a complete stop. He heard Bellatrix running, probably towards the visitor's entrance. As he ran after her, she realized she wasn't alone, turned, and fired a spell at him. He dived behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren that decorated the lobby. It struck the closed gates leading to the various Ministry offices with a bang. He heard no more footsteps. She had made her decision: fight it out here, rather than make good her escape. He remained hidden behind the fountain, listening.

"Come out, come out - where ever you are", she taunted in a _faux_ childish voice. "Why did you come, Harry? Didn't you want to avenge my dear, late, unlamented cousin?"

"Yes, I do", he called back.

"Awwwww... that's so touching, did you _love_ him, little Harry Potter?", she continued to taunt. Listening to this, recalling what she did, he felt an intensity of hatred like he never felt before. As he dived into the open: "Crucio!", he called out the name of one of the Unforgivable Curses. Bellatrix dropped to the floor, writhing in pain. Harry's satisfaction, however, was short lived. She was back on her feet: He dodged her counter spell, it missed, and blew the head off the statue of a wizard which flew for about 20 feet, leaving a trail of scratches in the polished, hardwood floor.

"Never used an Unforgivable before, have you?", she asked, this time in her normal voice. "It doesn't work like that", she explained. "Righteous anger hurts only for a moment or so. You have to _really_ mean it. You have to enjoy it, the pain and suffering you cause. Here, let me show you how it's done. Crucio!", she called out, forcing him back behind the fountain, as the curse blew off the bow arm of a centaur. It landed back somewhere near the wizard's head.

"_You_ can not win against me", she threatened. "I am the Dark Lord's most faithful and devoted servant. I learned all about the Dark Arts directly from him, and I know spells of such power that you can't imagine, you pathetic little boy".

"Stupify!", he attacked, as he'd worked his way around to where a goblin stood, and he had a clear shot. It didn't do him any good.

"Protego!", she was ready, and sent his own stunning spell right back at him. One of the goblin's ear went sailing off into the distance. "Potter, I am going to do you a favour: I will give you just this one chance. Just roll that prophecy out to me, and I will walk away".

"I guess that's too bad for me because it's gone. It broke back there, and no one could hear it over all that noise".

"What? What do you mean?", she asked. For the first time, she sounded anxious.

"It's like I said: it broke. How do you think Voldemort's gonna like that? He doesn't tolerate failure very well, does he?"

Harry's scar began to burn to such an extent it made his eyes water: "And he knows!"

"LIAR!", she screamed back at him. "I KNOW YOU STILL HAVE IT, AND YOU _WILL_ GIVE IT TO ME!", she was beginning to sound desperate. "Accio prophecy!" nothing happened. "ACCIO PROPHECY!"

Harry began to laugh at her, because he knew this would really piss her off. "There's nothing there, nothing to summon", now it was his turn to taunt her. "I said it was gone, and I meant it". She fired a burst of green light at him, and missed.

"No! You're lying. It isn't true... MASTER, I TRIED. I DID MY BEST... DO NOT PUNISH ME!", Bellatrix was increasingly desperate.

"Don't waste your breathe, he can't hear you".

(Cyberdramon's eyes narrowed to slits as he began to growl loudly: "My opponent is here", he announced. Dumbledore didn't need any explication, as he chased after the digimon dragon, and his partner.)

"Can't I, Potter?", came a familiar accent that made his blood run cold. Tall, thin, wearing a black hooded robe which he pushed down to show his snake-like face, bright red eyes with vertical slits for pupils, reptilian eyes, Lord Voldemort stood before him. In the middle of the lobby of the Ministry of Magic itself. His wand pointed straight at Harry's heart, Harry just stood there, unable to move, or even to think.

"So you smashed my prophecy, ehh, Harry?", he said in a _faux_ pleasant voice. "No, Bella, he isn't lying. I can read the truth in his eyes, and that worthless excuse of a mind. Months of preparation and planning, months of effort, and my Death Eaters have screwed up yet _again_..."

"Master, I am truly sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!", sobbed Bellatrix as she flung herself at her master's feet.

"So you were screwing off, instead of taking care of business? I didn't come here to listen to your snivelling excuses, and I shall deal with you later... And Potter, you have interfered... _What__inthehellareyou?!_"

Cyberdramon had come flying down the hallway, over the fountain, to land between Voldemort and Harry: "Are you my opponent?", Cyberdramon growled.

"Avada..."

"Erase claw!" The force of the attack doubled Voldemort over, and he nearly dropped his wand.

"King device!", Jadin scanned another card. The Light of Evolution enveloped Cyberdramon once again, as more data was accumulating from the Digital World.

"Erase claw!", he attacked once again, as soon as Voldemort stood up. This time, he was thrown off his feet, and skidded for about ten feet on the smooth polished floor.

"Avada Kedavera!", Voldemort attacked, but his aim was off, and all he accomplished was blowing the rest of the wizard and the centaur off the plinth in the center of the fountain.

As he was getting up, he saw the headless statue of the wizard get up, the goblin and house elf leaped off the plinth and headed for the fireplaces, and the witch statue ran at Bellatrix, who cast totally ineffective spells at it, and found herself pinned to the floor. At first, he thought Cyberdramon...

"Dumbledore!", he exclaimed. He raised his wand, Cyberdramon rose to the ceiling, and Dumbledore disappeared with a whirl of his robes as a green burst of light missed. The headless statue swept Harry and Jadin away from the fight, as Dumbledore reappeared behind Voldemort, who, in turn, disappeared and reappeared standing beside the fountain, as they exchanged positions.

"It was foolish of you to come here, Tom", Dumbledore announced. "The aurors will soon be here..."

"And by then I shall be gone, and _you_ shall be dead!", he fired off another killing curse, missed, and hit the vacant security kiosk, which went up in flames.

Dumbledore flicked his wand, and Harry could feel the force of the spell, like electricity in the air. Voldemort conjured a silver shield. The spell made this shield ring like a gong, a deep tone with a chilling sound. "You do not seek to kill me?", he asked, incredulous. "Too refined for such brutality, are you?"

"Tom, there are other ways to destroy a man: we both know that", Dumbledore explained as he casually strode towards Voldemort, as if he were discussing nothing of more consequence than the weather. "Simply taking your life wouldn't satisfy me", he explained.

"There is _nothing_ worse than death, Dumbledore...", Voldemort snarled.

"You are quite wrong", Dumbledore continued the casual stroll, and the calm voice. Harry wondered what in the hell he was doing, out in the open, with no shield or protection. He wanted to call out a warning, to do something, but his headless guard kept interfering, kept pushing him back against the wall. Cyberdramon continued looking on. Why wasn't he attacking? Harry wondered, as he feared for Dumbledore's safety more than Dumbledore himself. "Indeed: your failure to understand that there are much worse things than death has always been your greatest weakness, Tom".

With that, Dumbledore brandished his wand as though it were the handle of a horse whip. A red light shot from the tip, just like a whip, as the light encircled Voldemort, shield and all. It looked as though Dumbledore had gotten the best of Voldemort, but the red light released him, turned into a fiery serpent that turned, hissing loudly, to attack Dumbledore. It reared to strike... Voldemort vanished.

"Erase claw!", Cyberdramon attacked, and Voldemort's serpent vanished into nothingness. Voldemort reappeared, standing on the plinth behind Dumbledore.

"Avada Kadavera!", the green light shot forth at the same time Harry screamed: "_Look out_!" and Cyberdramon swooped down, taking the hit for Dumbledore. Cyberdramon threw his head back as he roared in agony. Jadin watched, horrified, as Cyberdramon began to shed data. His outline went all fuzzy, then sharp, then fuzzy again as he began to "phase out". A barely conscious Impmon flopped to the floor.

Dumbledore brandished his wand, sending up a plume of water that encased Voldemort in an improbable bubble of water that defied all the laws of hydrodynamics. At first, he appeared simply as an ill-defined dark shape, standing on the plinth, inside his watery prison. He was obviously struggling to escape drowning. Then Voldemort vanished, as the water crashed back into the fountain, splashing all over the floor.

"MASTER!", Bellatrix screamed.

Convinced it was all over, Harry started to struggle his way out: "Stay where you are!", Dumbledore ordered. For the first time, there was a hint of fear in his voice. Harry couldn't see why: Bellatrix was still trapped under the statue of the witch, the hall was empty, except for himself, Jadin, and Impmon, who had crawled to them, and looked as though he'd passed out.

That's when it struck. Harry felt as thought his head had exploded. He was no longer in the lobby of the Ministry. Instead, he was trapped in the coils of something with bright red eyes. He couldn't tell where his own body ended, and that of this creature began. They had merged, bound by pain, and there was no escape. As the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, but its own voice:

"Kill me now Dumbledore", he heard himself say. The way he felt, Harry thought it a good idea. "If death isn't the worst thing, Dumbledore, then kill the boy"

"Let this pain stop", thought Harry, "Put me out of this misery... End it Dumbledore, end it now... Then I'll see Sirius again". Harry felt himself fill with the love for his godfather, and the coils of this creature loosened. The pain was gone, and Harry found himself lying face down on the floor of the Ministry. As cold as he felt, he might as well been lying on a block of ice. He became aware that there were voices, lots of them, and there shouldn't have been. He opened his eyes, and found his glasses lying beside the heel of the statue that had been guarding him, now lying on its back, and inert as before. He put the glasses on and raised his head to find his nose but inches from Dumbledore's own crooked nose.

"Are you alright?", he asked.

"I... think so", he replied. "What happened to Voldemort... where... who are all these people?", as he looked around, the lobby was full of people, and more were arriving from the fireplaces in gusts of emerald green flames. As Dumbeldore helped Harry to his feet, he saw that the statues of the goblin and house elf were leading a surprised-looking Cornelius Fudge to the head of the pack. Obviously, they didn't give him much warning, as Fudge was wearing a hastily put-on robe over his pajamas, and bedroom slippers.

Jadin was helping Impmon to his feet. They approached, and stood by Dumbledore's side.

"He was here!", a man wearing a scarlet robe with a pony tail exclaimed. He was pointing to the broken remnants of the witch statue that had entrapped Bellatrix Lestrange. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, right there. He grabbed some woman and disappeared. It was Youknowwho!"

"I know, Williamson, I saw it too", Fudge replied, none too happy about that. "Here! Here, in the Ministry of Magic! How could something like this happen?"

"If you'll proceed downstairs to the Department of Mysteries, you'll find some of Voldemort's Death Eaters awaiting you in the Death Chamber, bound and trapped by an anti-disaparition jinx. It's up to you to decide what you want to do with them". Dumbledore stepped forward, as the new-comers were just now realizing he was there.

"Dumbledore!", Fudge gasped. "You... here as well... I... I..."

He looked to the aurors he'd brought with him, and it was obvious he was about to order them to arrest Dumbledore.

"Cornelius: I'm ready and able to fight your men, and to win again".

Dumbledore turned to address the new arrivals: "Just a few minutes ago, all of you saw with your own eyes that Lord Voldemort is back. Just as I have been telling you all year. Lord Voldemort has returned, and you have wasted a whole year! It's high time you started listening to sense!"

"I don't... well...", Fudge was trying to gather his thoughts, hoping someone might have a suggestion. When none was forth coming, and he realized he needed to make a decision: "Williamson, Dawlish, go down there and check it out. Dumbledore, you will need to tell me...". He was distracted by the sight of the ruins of his fountain. "The Fountain of Magical Brethren... what have you done?", he sort of whimpered.

"We can discuss that later, after I have sent Mr. Potter back to Hogwart's"

"Potter? _Harry Potter_! Here!", Fudge noticed Harry for the first time. "Why... what's this all about? Who is he?", referring to Jadin. "What is that?", referring to Impmon.

"I told you: I will explain everything once Harry is back at school", Dumbledore repeated. With that, he walked over to the wizard head lying on the floor. He tapped it with his wand: "Portus".

"Now see here", Fudge complained, "you don't have any authorization for that portkey. You can't go doing shi... things like that under the nose of the Minister of Magic!"

Dumbledore was carrying the head to deliver it to Harry, as he completely ignored Fudge and his whining.

"Take this portkey, Harry", as he handed it over. Harry took it, not really caring where he was sent. "One (tap)... two (tap)... three (tap)". With that, Harry was gone. Dumbledore turned back to Fudge:

"Impmon, Jadin, and I will give you...", as he took out a pocket watch, "...thirty minutes of our time. Shall we?"


	14. Cornelius Fudge Faces the Truth

**14) Cornelius Fudge Faces the Truth**

As he was leading the way to his office, Fudge wondered who this strange boy could possibly be for Dumbledore to be showing him such deference, treating him as an equal. Did he also go to Hogwart's? Why hadn't Dumbledore sent him away with Harry? He certainly couldn't have been much older than Harry Potter. What was the strange elven critter that accompanied them?

Minister Fudge took his place behind his desk, as Dumbledore conjured three chairs for himself, Jadin, and Impmon.

"You certainly made an ass of me back there, didn't you? I suppose you finally get your wish, and will be demanding I resign?"

"No, Cornelius. I supported your bid for Minister, not because I thought you would make an outstanding leader: I supported you because I believed you to be a good man. I was perfectly willing to help you carry out the responsibilities of your office while asking for none of the credit. You made that mistake which all too many politicians make: you came to believe your own self-serving propaganda. I have not been plotting against you; I have no desire to see you removed from office. While there is a good chance that you could be removed, I will have nothing to do with it, and it is not I who will replace you. Cornelius: I _never_ wanted your office. Hogwart's and my students are now and have always been my highest priority.

"The return of Lord Voldemort to life and full power makes political infighting rather unimportant and inconsequential, wouldn't you agree? It would not be good to see the Minister fold under the pressure. People out there are going to be frightened, and will be looking to you for leadership. As I said when you first took office, I will do everything in my power to assist you in any way I can... _if_ you'll let me".

"What is it that you want, then?", Fudge asked.

"It is not all that much, and demands little on your part. First: you will reinstate me as headmaster of Hogwart's. You will abolish the Office of High Inquisitor and order Dolores Umbridge to leave Hogwart's. All of Umbridge's decrees are to be rescinded. Furthermore, you will be receiving expulsion orders for Mr. Malfoy and his Inquisitorial Squad: you will sign them. I won't be demanding that the Wizengamot hold investigative hearings on Umbridge's exceeding her authority by imposing excessively harsh punishments on the students, as we don't have the luxury of wasting any more time on peripheral issues".

"I see, and this will satisfy you?", Fudge asked suspiciously.

"I already told you: I have no political ambitions beyond Hogwart's and opposing Voldemort".

"Just who _are_ these..."

Before he could get an answer, the auror in the scarlet robe they knew as Williamson interrupted:

"Excuse the intrusion, Minister, but I have to report that it's as Professor Dumbledore said: Death Eaters in the Death Chamber, bound and trapped. They're on their way to Azkaban as we speak".

"Understood", Fudge replied. He expected Williamson to leave, but he didn't.

"There's one more thing... down in the Death Chamber... the veil between the world of the living and dead is... gone. It's just... vanished. Without a trace..."

"Sorry 'bout that", Impmon replied.

"What do you mean?", Cornelius demanded. Williamson, his report completed, turned to leave as he was needed elsewhere. "It dates back to the time of Merlin, if not before".

"I took back something that didn't belong to you. It was a Digital World artifact, and a very dangerous one at that. I can't allow you to play with such things. Look at what happened to poor Sirius".

"As for my associates, this is Impmon. As I understand it, he is a 'digimon' who's visiting from his world: the Digital World. It would seem that the Department of Mysteries acquired a relic from that world somehow", Dumbledore explained. "This is Impmon's partner: Jadin - a muggle".

"You _dared_ to bring a muggle to the Ministry of Magic itself? Dumbledore!"

"They saved Mr. Potter's life at least twice, and mine once. Show him", Dumbledore requested.

Jadin took out his digivice and the blue card: "As soon as we arrived downstairs, I digivolved Impmon to his Ultimate form: Cyberdramon. It was while in that form that he defeated three Death Eaters. Unfortunately, neither of us were able to save Sirius Black from that Gate of Destiny, but we were able to prevent Harry's following him through it to the same fate as Sirius".

First Fudge, then Dumbledore, examined the "featureless" blue card: they discovered it wasn't featureless: on the back was a holographic image. This being a yellow upper case 'D' with a dark blue, generic digimon head superimposed over the upper right hand quadrant of the 'D'. There was nothing else to indicate to whom this apparent logo belonged. It became visible only when the light caught it at just the right angle.

"The blue cards contain a routine originally coded by one of the originators of digimon: Goru "Shibumi" Mizuno. He always believed that digimon would one day appear here in the Material World, and that the 'Net would become much more than just a communications network. It was his intent to overcome those limitations. That's what the blue card does: activates 'Matrix Evolution' to take our partners beyond their Champion levels. None of this is any big secret among we Mentors. The rest of the 'Wild Bunch', as the original creators of digimon called themselves - were eccentric by even the standards of Open Source programmers - considered their colleague to be somewhat of a heretic. They didn't share his beliefs, and so he had to work this out on his own".

"So this really isn't magical..."

"No, it's technological. Only now it would seem that we can defeat some forms of magic. That's how we came to Professor Dumbledore's attention, and why we are here".

"What is it that you want, Impmon?", Fudge asked, "Why did you come here?"

"We digimon have always known about the Material World. We discovered how to cross the Frontier to appear in the Material World as physical beings. Once we arrived, however, we found we needed human partners to help us evolve since we are separated from the Digientelechia that drives our evolution. That's what the cards and digivices do: open a link to the Digital World and the Digientelechia. Only now, we've seen that there's more to the Material World than we first realized. Given the way your Wizarding World avoids anything technological, we had no way of knowing about it until we happened to discover these Dementors who were attacking Harry and his brother. We thought they were digimon, and later learned we were wrong about that".

"And what do you intend to do, now that you know about it?"

"Help the...", Impmon almost said the "Order of the Phoenix", "...Professor to prevent this Lord Voldemort from becoming a threat to the Digital World".

"How, exactly, did you save Potter and Dumbledore?"

"While still in my Ultimate form, I prevented Harry from following Sirius through that Gate of Destiny down stairs. I also prevented Voldemort from attacking Harry with a Killing Curse. I saved the Professor by taking a hit from that same Killing Curse in the lobby just before you and the others arrived..."

"_You_ survived the Killing Curse?", Fudge asked, incredulous. "No one, other than Mr. Potter, has ever survived the Killing Curse".

"Oh yeah, but I lost too much data in the process, and had to return to my current Rookie form. Losing that much data that fast is rough. I still don't feel 100%, and I won't be able to digivolve until I regenerate".

"That was it: he sacrificed his Ultimate form, but he survived. So you see, Cornelius, they've more than earned their right to be here. That brings me to one final order of business...", Dumbledore tapped his wand against Fudge's desk, and two small parchment scrolls materialized. "Sign them: they are decrees making Impmon and Jadin honorary magi, and contain a charm that will allow them access to the Ministry, Hogwart's, Hogsmeade, or anywhere else they may want to visit."

"Honorary... magi?", Fudge asked.

"They are always welcome at Hogwart's, so long as I am headmaster", Dumbledore explained.

"And just what..."

"I could use a guest lecturer for our Muggle Studies class, and I'm sure Arthur Weasley could use an expert consultant as well", Dumbledore explained before Fudge could ask. "With Lord Voldemort back to full power, we will need all the help we can get. From Impmon and Jadin, and any other digimon who would care to join us".

"That... just... isn't _done_...", Fudge complained. However, he took out a quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and signed the decrees. By now, it was clear to him that Dumbledore had defeated him as completely as though he'd successfully deposed him. Fudge was beginning to understand that Dumbledore didn't want to depose him because he didn't need to. Dumbledore briefly inspected the signature, and handed each scroll to Impmon and his partner. "Be sure you keep these safe", he admonished.

"Thanks", Jadin said as he took the parchment.

"Yeah, thanks", Impmon added.

"Jadin was quite right about one thing: for far too long, we have let time pass us by. It's well past time for us to catch up. Speaking of time and catching up. I mustn't keep Mr. Potter waiting any longer. Good day, Cornelius".

"Aren't you forgetting about something?", Jadin asked.

"Oh?", Dumbledore replied.

"Buckbeak, they still have..."

"Yes, that's right: you will also rescind the order to have Sirius' hippogryph put down.

Thanks for reminding of that Mr. Jadin". Dumbledore stood, his business complete.

"So how're we going back? The phoenix express?", Jadin asked.

"No. I think we'll take a more conventional route this time", Dumbledore said, as he stepped to the fireplace in Cornelius' office.

The fireplace in Dumbledore's office suddenly erupted in green fire, giving Harry a start. The figures of Dumbledore, with Fawkes on his shoulder, followed by Impmon, then Jadin emerged.

At first, Dumbledore didn't look at Harry, as he returned the phoenix to his perch.

"Well, Harry", he said as he turned towards him, "you will be pleased to learn that none of your classmates will suffer any permanent injury or disability from this night's events".

Harry wanted to say "Good", but couldn't make himself say it. Was Dumbledore subtly reminding him of all the damage he'd done? Was this a little dig at him? He wondered, though Dumbledore was finally looking at him for the first time in months, he couldn't make his eyes meet Dumbledore's.

"Madam Pomfrey is patching everyone up as we speak. Tonks may have to be transferred to St. Mungo's for further treatment, but she should be just fine within a week or so". Harry could only nod at the carpet, which was growing lighter as the new dawn approached outside.

"I know how you're feeling", Dumbledore offered quietly.

"No you don't!", Harry snapped back at him. He turned away to look out the window. That didn't help, as he had a good view of the Quidditch stadium. Sirius had appeared there in the form of a shaggy black dog to see him play. Maybe he'd come to see if Harry was as good as James? Harry never thought to ask if he was as good as his father, and Sirius mentioned nothing about how Harry compared to James as a Quidditch player.

"There is no shame in feeling the way you do", Dumbledore continued explaining gently. "On the contrary, that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength".

"My greatest strength is it?", Harry replied, barely able to get the words out past the rage inside. "You haven't a clue; you don't know..."

"What don't I know?"

Harry turned back to face Dumbledore: "I don't want to talk about how I feel, get it?"

"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! It's part of being human..."

"THEN I DON'T WANT TO BE HUMAN!", he roared.

"I'm not human, and trust me, it doesn't make any difference", Impmon explained. "I liked him too, and I'll miss him..."

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE PURPLE DIGI-FREAK!"

"Impmon, Jadin: I think it would be best if you'd leave us", Dumbledore said gently, not meaning to give offense.

They walked down to the lower level, past Fawkes, and stepped out of the office. As the door closed behind them, they heard what sounded like something breaking behind the door.

"What's with him?", Impmon asked.

"Sirius was the last of what Harry could call 'family'; it hit him pretty hard, seeing him go like that", Jadin explained.

"Professor McGonegall", Impmon and Jadin said at once, as she was arriving.

"We have some new vacancies in Gryffindor Tower, and perhaps you'd like to get some rest?", she invited.

"I still have a dorm in Ravenclaw Tower", Jadin reminded.

"Yeah, we could use some shut-eye", Impmon agreed.

"What happened?", Jadin asked.

McGonagall explained: "We lost some good students, including Fred and George Weasley, while Umbridge was head mistress. It's regrettable, and unfortunate".

"Will they be coming back, now that the Professor is back in charge?", Jadin asked.

"That's hard to say".

"There won't be any problems with our staying?"

"Not anymore. You won't have to misrepresent yourself, and Impmon won't have to hide. Not after the news of what you did for Harry, his friends, and the Professor gets out".

_Madam Pomfrey's Infirmary_

"Jadin! Impmon!", Neville called out, as they were arriving to visit with the others who'd been involved in the fight at the Department of Mysteries.

"Looks like your nose is as good as new, and much better than the last time we saw it", Jadin replied.

"Madam Pomfrey fixed it in a trice", he explained. Same for Ginny's broken ankle, as that was the extent of her injuries. She was curled up asleep at the foot of Hermione's bed. Hermione was regaling them with the latest news from the _Daily Prophet_:

_Minister Fudge:_

_"It is with deep regret that I report this evening that the dark wizard styling himself Lord... well, you-know-who has returned, alive and has come into his former level of power. It is with the same regret that I must report that the Dementors have ceased their employ with the Ministry, and have abandoned their posts at Azkaban Prison. We believe that the Dementors are taking direction from Lord... Thingy. We urge the magical community to remain calm, but vigilant. The Ministry is working this very moment on the preparation of guidelines for home and personal defense that will be delivered to all wizarding homes as soon as we can make them available"_

"The article goes on to say that Albus Dumbledore has been reinstated to his former positions as Chief Justice of the Wizengamot, membership in the International confederation of Wizards, and as headmaster of Hogwart's. They're pretty short on apologies, however".

"That's an understatement if ever I heard one", Ron added. "Get this", as he began to quote the article:

_"Despite wide spread disbelief and outright ridicule, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived... _so Harry's back to being The Boy Who Lived..._ had remained steadfast in his insistence that he personally witnessed the reincarnation of he-who-must-not-be-named..._

"No mention that it was the _Prophet_ that did most of that denial and fueled all that ridicule. No apologies, and that's rather cheeky of them, I'd say_"._

"So how're you doing?", Jadin asked, as he gave her a hug.

"It could have been a lot worse. If Dolohov had been able to say the incantation that goes with the curse he used, I wouldn't be having this conversation. It did enough damage, and I'm on a course of treatment that involves tightly scheduled administrations of ten different potions. That's why I can't leave just yet, but Madam Pomfrey says the prognosis is for full and complete recovery. It's just boring, having to stay here".

"I'm just glad you're still among the living and that you'll be getting better... Dolohov, you say? It should please you to know that he was one of the Death Eaters Cyberdramon took out..."

"Cyberdramon?", she asked.

"Oh, that's right: you were unconscious when we arrived with the Professor. Cyberdramon is Impmon's Ultimate digivolution. He also got that MacNair that came here to put down Buckbeak. They won't be bothering you ever again".

She looked away, not saying a word about this latest news. She was at once happy they were gone, yet regretful at the same time.

"So what was this business about a 'prophecy'?", Jadin prompted.

"It was a small glass ball that records a prophecy made by a Seer. The Department of Mysteries keeps an archive, or at least they did. After we were surrounded and attacked by Lucius Malfoy and his Death Eaters, we smashed a whole bunch - may be thousands - when we were escaping. It turned out that there was a prophecy made shortly before Harry's birth sixteen years ago, and it was recorded and archived. The only ones who can retrieve prophecies are those to whom they're addressed. If anyone else attempts to take one not belonging to them, they are instantly driven mad. That's what happened to everyone who tried to steal the prophecy, and why Youknowwho needed Harry to retrieve it: because everyone else had failed.

It broke, but no one could hear it, so we don't know what it was all about, but Youknowwho didn't get to hear it either, so it wasn't a complete loss. It turned out that Sybil Trelawney originally made this particular prophecy. We always thought she was a fraud, and wondered why she taught Divination for all these years, and that's the reason why. She wasn't a _complete_ fraud, just not a very good Seer, that's all".

"I'm just a bit disappointed: all that fuss over a prophecy. I was expecting something more, well, spectacular, like some sort of super weapon or something"

"That's what we thought at first. You have to remember: the prophecy wasn't just addressed to Harry, but also to Youknowwho - either one could have retrieved it, as it concerned both. It may very well have foretold something that could have been used against him. or Harry. It wasn't a wasted effort, by any means".

"It might have also told something that could have been used against Whatshisname - too bad it got broke, then".

"If it did, you can be sure that the Professor will know how to retrieve it, if he hasn't already".

"Wanna see something funny?", Ron asked without waiting for an answer before making clip-clopping noises with his tongue. Across the room, a figure sat up in bed, looking around frantically. It was Dolores Umbridge.

"I thought she was supposed to leave Hogwart's?", Jadin asked.

"After Hagrid rescued her from the centaurs..."

"Ron! That's not funny!", Jadin reprimanded.

"Huh?", he asked.

"When you get out of here, you might want to Google up centaurs. I don't like her either, but _no one_ deserved that, not even Umbridge".

"You mean they..."

"Yes, they did..."

"Is it true that you took a killing curse to save the Professor?", Neville interrupted.

"It's true", Impmon said.

"How come you're still alive? The only one who is known to have survived the Killing Curse is Harry, and the reason he survived was his mother took the curse upon herself, and that act of self sacrifice caused it to turn back onto Youknowwho. That's how he was defeated back then".

"_I_ survived, but Cyberdramon didn't. Though it's very rough, losing that much data so fast. I'm not looking forward to doing that any time soon, I can assure you".

"Will you be able to digivolve?"

"After I regenerate".

Harry arrived to see how his fellow adventurers were getting on.

"How're you holding up?", Jadin asked.

"I dunnow", he replied. "Sometimes I expect to see Sirius in the fireplace, that it was all just a horrible dream, that it never happened. I just got to know him, and now he's gone... he's really gone..."

"I... really don't know what to say", Jadin replied. "I'm sorry just doesn't seem... enough".

Jadin had never lost anyone close to him and had no idea what that was like.

Harry was in and out, saying he was on his way to see Hagrid. That was the problem: alone Harry felt he wanted company. With company, he wanted to be alone.

"C'mon, I'll go with you, need to let the others get some rest", Jadin offered.

As he was leaving with Jadin and Impmon, Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle passed by: "You're dead!", Draco hissed at them, "All three of you". It was obvious they'd received their notice of expulsion. "You didn't think you'd get away with it, getting us expelled, Father sent to Azkaban..."

"Funny, I don't feel dead", Jadin retorted. "As for you getting expelled, you should have thought of that sooner. As for your old man, he should have chosen the company he keeps more wisely".

"If Lord Voldemort couldn't take us out, we needn't concern ourselves with the likes of you", Impmon added.

"You can't put my father in Azkaban and get us expelled..."

"Draco, you did it to yourself when you thought you could bully the rest of the students while Umbridge gave you cover. Your old man put himself in Azkaban", Harry agreed. "Just be glad your father didn't wind up like MacNair and Dolohov".

"He won't be in there for long. He has powerful friends, and besides, the Dementors have left. Who's gonna keep him in?"

"At least now everyone knows what a PoS your father is...", Harry challenged. Draco went for his wand, but Harry was better prepared and faster on the draw. Impmon flicked up a fireball and was preparing to throw it at Malfoy.

"What is going on here, Pot-ter?", Professor Snape said as he was coming up the stairs leading to the dungeons.

"Just trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy", Harry replied.

Snape's eyes went up at this unexpected moment of candor: "Put it away", he told Harry.

"As for you, haven't you caused enough trouble?", he turned and asked Draco. "No sense in making it worse", he advised. Under Snape's gaze, the group broke up. They waited until Draco and his pals were well on their way.

"I'm expected in the Professor's office; he wants a de-briefing", Jadin explained as he headed back towards the castle, as Harry set off in the direction of Hagrid's cabin.

_Dumbledore's Office_

"Sorry for keeping you waiting", Jadin greeted as he pushed open the doors. "I wanted to see how Hermione and the others were doing".

"Quite understandable", Dumbledore replied. "What happened back there?"

"How do you mean? You were right there with us".

"I mean between the time you and Impmon left the Death Chamber, and my arrival in the lobby".

"Oh, well, Cyberdramon got there first, and prevented Whatshisname from attacking Harry, who didn't look quite prepared for his arrival".

"Yeah", Impmon agreed, "I hit him point blank with an Erase Claw..."

"I arrived at that time, and used this", Jadin held out the card.

"And this is...?", Dumbledore started to ask.

"It's called a 'device card'. It's kinda like a wild card, so it's something to be used carefully, as its misuse can lead to unfortunate and unforeseen consequences. Given the reputation, I figured Cyberdramon could use the extra help".

"That's what I don't understand", Impmon said, "I hit that fucker point blank, not once but _twice_, and he wasn't deleted. That last attack should've taken out a couple of mega-level digimon".

"You see, Voldemort has prepared himself this time for his return. Sixteen years ago, I met a prospective candidate whom I thought would make an excellent addition to our faculty as an instructor in Divination. She insisted on meeting at the Hogshead in Hogsmeade. I had doubts about the wisdom of meeting there, as the Hogshead has a nasty reputation, and their clientèle is nasty. But she insisted, so we met on the upper level.

"It soon became obvious that this individual wasn't a suitable candidate, despite being the descendant of some excellent and famous Seers, she hadn't really inherited their abilities. Or so I thought. As I was excusing myself, this prospect suddenly spoke in a totally different and unfamiliar voice. She said that the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord would arrive at the tail end of that July. After that, her voice returned to normal, and she had no awareness of what had just happened. Needless to say, I changed my mind and hired her. You know who I'm talking about?"

"Professor Trelawney?", Jadin offered.

"Quite. It was her prophecy that was recorded in the glass sphere Harry recovered from the Department of Mysteries last night. When July arrived, two boys were born to wizarding families on the 30th: Neville Longbottom, and..."

"Harry Potter", Impmon added.

"Harry Potter. One of the two would be the one to defeat Voldemort once and for all. As I said, the Hogshead is full of shady characters, and one of them reported straight off what he'd overheard to Voldemort. However, he didn't over hear the whole story. The rest of the story is that the Dark Lord would mark his opponent. Of course, after birth, neither Harry nor Neville bore any such mark, so it could have been either one. This is the reason Neville's parents were attacked so savagely during Voldemort's first reign of terror that they have never recovered. No, Voldemort would mark Harry himself, but later..."

"That funky scar on his forehead", Impmon more stated than asked.

"Precisely. So Voldemort has just half the prophecy, which explains why he was so desperate to get his hands on the rest of it - and why it was so important that he not do so. This is the reason your attacks didn't work: Harry is the only one who can destroy Voldemort, and there was nothing you could have done differently to change that. That, and the fact that he has made himself immortal".

"How did he manage that?", Jadin asked, incredulous. That Voldemort had survived two Erase Claws was undeniable, as he'd seen it himself.

"There is a type of magic, the darkest of dark magic, which guarantees immortality. So long as a soul, or a piece of a soul, is kept safe within what's called a 'horcrux', then he can not really die, as that piece of soul is anchored in this world. Even if the physical body is destroyed, it can be recreated. I know that even as Tom Riddle, he was very interested in this subject. Unfortunately, he learned how to do this, and has made more than one horcrux".

"OK, so why's this so bad?"

"To make a horcrux, you first need to divide your soul. The only way to do that is to commit an impardonable offense, and that means a cold-blooded murder. Voldemort has committed quite a few of these just for the purpose of preparing his horcruxes. I can't emphasize enough how evil this is.

"Now, we have another problem: Voldemort knows about Cyberdramon. He will be interested in learning more about the strange creature who attacked him with such power, and who took a Killing Curse and survived. So far as we know, there are just two individuals who ever survived: Harry Potter and Cyberdramon/Impmon...

On a happier note, I'm sending Minerva to personally invite your family to come to attend our Commencement Feast".

"Seriously?", Jadin asked.

"Oh yes, you and Impmon are fully part of the 'family' (making finger quotes) now. I intend to set the record straight about that in my Commencement speech. It is the least I could do, considering that we - the magical community - have put you in even greater danger than you were before".

_Hagrid's Cabin_

"Aye, Harry, yer luk terr'bul", Hagrid greeted as he opened the door. "I have jus' ter t'ing: a cup o' hot herbal tea. Have some?", he offered.

"Yes, please", Harry replied without enthusiasm. He was wondering if coming was the right thing to do. He sat at Hagrid's table as Hagrid prepared two big cups of the herbal tea. He pushed one to Harry as he sat down.

Hagrid broke the uneasy silence: "Dumbledore tole meh boud Sirius, an I knew how much he meant ter yeh... meh condolences fer yer loss", he said softly.

"Thanks", Harry replied without looking up from the brownish liquid.

"He died fightin' ter Dark Lord: he would'a wanned ter go oud lak thah".

"I think he'd've preferred not going out at all!", Harry snapped back.

"Aye...", Hagrid started as Harry stood.

"Goin' so soon?"

"I was on my way to Madam Pomfrey's infirmary to see how the Ron, Ginny and the others are doing", he lied.

Harry headed to Gryffindor Tower instead. He pulled out his trunk with the intention of throwing everything in and leaving Hogwart's. He wasn't planning on waiting for commencement, and wasn't looking forward to the year end feast either. He could catch a Knight Bus to London. He discovered the small pocket mirror, still brown with grime. He wiped it somewhat cleaner.

That last evening he'd spent at Grimmauld Place, before leaving for the start of the school year, Sirius had given him this. It wasn't just an ordinary mirror, but also a two-way, audio-visual communicator. Sirius had its companion, and had told him to use it if he needed to get in contact. He slowly sat down on the edge of his bed, his reflection starring back at him. How could he be so stupid as to have forgotten he had it? If only he'd used the mirror/communicator instead of risking a break-in to Umbridge's office to use the Floo Network, then Kreacher couldn't lie to him that Sirius had gone to the Department of Mysteries. And he wouldn't have gotten caught red-handed by Umbridge, wouldn't have needed to come up with that cock-and-bull story about hiding a super weapon in the Forbidden Forest, wouldn't have walked straight into Voldemort's trap. And Sirius would still be alive right now.

"Sirius, are you there?", he asked the mirror. "Sirius, come in: just once, that's all. I'd like to talk just one more time, please?"

Harry's reflection continued looking up at him. Of course it wasn't working: Sirius didn't have his mirror with him when he went through the Gate of Destiny. In frustration, Harry threw the mirror across the room as it shattered as it hit the wall. Harry lay down, forgetting about packing to leave.

_Gryffindor Common Room_

"Hey, Hermione", Jadin greeted.

"Madam Pomfrey's given me a clean bill of health, just in time for tomorrow's feast. How about you, Impmon?"

"Fully regenerated and ready to digivolve".

"Good to hear it".

Harry came down from the boys' dorms, his trunk magically following behind, empty bird cage in his hand.

"What's up with that?", Ron asked.

"Yeah?", Neville asked.

"Harry?", Hermione chimed in.

"I'm going to collect Hedwig from the owlry and catch the Knight Bus. I'm not feeling very festive..."

"Like _hell_ you are!", Jadin reprimanded. "You're going to take that stuff back to your dorm and stow it. I'm getting sick and tired of your moping around; you've been acting like a real asshole all year..."

"What would you know?! Try minding your own goddamn business!"

Jadin was off the sofa, and coming at Harry so fast that he didn't have time to pull out his wand before Jadin snatched it from his hand, flinging it across the room. Jadin had him by the lapels of his robe, shoving him roughly against the wall.

"No one else apparently has the balls to tell you what you need to hear, so I'm gonna do it myself. You're gonna keep your god-damn mouth shut and open your ears. You have friends here who literally put their lives on the line for you, and _this_ is how you repay them? God knows why they still bother..."

"What would you know? You lose anyone? You haven't..."

"Didn't I tell, you to shut up? Your never ending whinging is wearing mighty thin. Yeah, you have it _soooooo_ hard don't you? You're such a special little snowflake, aren't you? Potter: there are _thousands_ of kids out there who lost parents, godparents, friends and relatives and they don't have an aunt and uncle to take them in. They don't have a Hogwart's to come to; they don't have a Professor Dumbledore. From where I stand, you _already_ hit life's lottery. How many wizarding families are there in the UK? I bet it isn't over 5,000.

What do you do?". Jadin turned over Harry's right hand, still bearing the scars from Umbridge's punishment quill. "You do stupid shit like this: pick a fight with Umbridge you _knew_ you couldn't win. Not once, but _twice_ you're slicing your hand open. Do you go to Professor McGonagall about this? Do you mention it to Dumbledore..."

"I didn't want to bother them with my problems..."

"I've seen First Years -_ little kids_ - with those same marks on their hands. Did you _ever_ think of them? Did you think of your team mates when you got yourself kicked off the Quidditch team and lost the Quidditch Cup to those Slytherans? Do you give a shit about anyone besides yourself?

"Do you think I enjoy..."

"Yes, Potter: I think you enjoyed the _hell_ out of it. You have a martyr complex: it's all about you, you, you, and to hell with anyone else. You didn't bother working on learning Occlumancy did you? Thought you could do everything all by yourself, and you never wanted to shut out those visions, did you? That's what got Sirius killed, and that's what's putting me and Impmon in jeopardy. It never occurred to you that Whatshisname just might tap into that psychic connection and find out all about digimon. It never occurred to you that Whatshisname might use your own memories against you, did it?

"If that prophecy is accurate, and you are the last, best hope for the Wizarding World, then, Minister Fudge and Professor Dumbledore should sit down with Whatshisname to negotiate the best possible terms of surrender. You don't stand a chance: you're pathetic. And the worst part is you don't even see it..."

"I handled him before..."

"No, Potter, you just got f'kin lucky. That's one thing Professor Snape got right: if it hadn't been for Hermione, Ron, and the rest of your friends, you'd've been history, and everyone but you knows it.

"You're also lazy. When he was your age, Whatshisname was already working on his plan for immortality; Professor Dumbledore was well on his way to earning his first Order of Merlin. What have _you _done? What are you doing to ready yourself for the show-down that everyone's telling me is inevitable?

"No, Potter, you are not going to run away this time. You are going to take your shit back upstairs, you won't ruin Commencement for your friends, and afterwards, you are going to see Professor Snape and apologize or kiss ass, or whatever it takes, and - this time - you will take his Occlumancy lessons seriously.

"The pity party ends right here, right now".


	15. Commencement Day

**15) Commencement Day**

_Malfoy Manor_

Since his "rebirth" in physical form, Lord Voldemort had virtually commandeered Malfoy Manor as his headquarters. Lucius Malfoy didn't have any choice in the matter, seeing how Lucius had disappointed his Dark Lord by his failure to come to his rescue all those years after his apparent defeat.

"Once again", he began in that _faux_ tone of pleasantness that meant just the opposite, "my Death Eaters have failed me. A simple assignment: recover my prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, and you can't even get that right. Why do you think I didn't go to Hall of Prophecy to recover my prophecy? I didn't want to be seen there. A year's worth of work, insiders within the Ministry and the _Daily Prophet_, all working to the same end: discredit Dumbledore and Potter, to buy me time, and now my plans are ruined because of you and your incompetence! Now, everyone believes Dumbledore and that annoying little brat: Harry Potter.

"To make matters even worse, you lose my prophecy to a handful of kids. There would appear to be yet another complication: an unknown creature of extraordinary power. Bella, Lucius, what you tell me in the next few minutes will determine whether I let you live, or... Need I explicate? I didn't think so".

"Master, the creature's name seems to be Cyberdramon..."

"You will have to do better than that". Hearing that, Bellatrix frantically searched her memory for any snippets of recalled details. She wished she'd paid closer attention.

"Master, during the fight in the Death Chamber, I noticed that it seemed to be taking orders from this unfamiliar boy who's about Potter's age. He ordered it to stop Harry, and it obeyed".

"One of Potter's friends?"

"No, Master. I only saw him briefly, but he wasn't wearing a Hogwart's robe, just normal street clothes. This wasn't one of Potter's known associates, as they were already there in the Ministry. He arrived with Dumbledore. Master, I'm _sure_ of it: he didn't arrive until Dumbledore".

"I see. Lucius?"

"My son, Draco, told me about this new student who showed up at the start of this year. He was introduced as Jadin Weston, a transfer student from America - or so Dumbledore said. He's a Ravenclaw, but Draco said he seemed to hang out mainly with Potter and his friends. There's something else: according to Draco, this Jadin was regularly being excused from classes to meet with Dumbledore. Draco also believes that this new kid had an unseen companion who was being hidden in the Forbidden Forest by the gamekeeper: Hagrid. One of his friends caught a brief glimpse of it, and described it as small and purple, but he didn't see anything else".

"That would be the same figure I saw in the Ministry after the 'dragon' took a Killing Curse for Dumbledore. It looked like that 'dragon' was 'dissolving'. I am unfamiliar with any such magical creatures".

"I remember something else", Bellatrix added. "When Dumbledore and that new kid arrived in the Death Chamber, that creature wasn't with them. At first, I thought he'd conjured it, but now I remember: he _didn't_ have or use a wand. Not once, that I saw. He had something else, something I didn't see clearly, but it definitely wasn't conjured. The dragon just appeared, but it could have transfigured from a smaller creature".

"You have bought yourselves time to redeem yourselves", Voldemort told Lucius and Bellatrix. "Severus", Voldemort turned to Professor Snape, "What can you tell us about this new 'student'?"

"I had him for Potions. Of all my students, Jadin was one of the few who showed up for class prepared for that day's lesson. He was always polite, quiet, and never gave me any reason to suspect him".

"Severus, _surely_ you can do better than that? Otherwise, I might come to question your loyalty". Snape knew he was on dangerous ground here.

"Master, what can I say? Dumbledore is already suspicious of me; he went out of his way to keep anything he knew about this boy from the rest of the faculty. All the other professors have told me is that this Jadin did some excellent work in his classes - OWL quality. They had no reason to suspect there was anything unusual about him. As for the meetings with Dumbledore, these always took place in his offices behind the Muffliato charm, so no one overheard. The only one who would know more is Minerva McGonagall..."

"And this did not strike you as being the least bit curious?", Voldemort asked sarcastically.

"Of course it did. I figured that these frequent meetings were because the kid was a transfer from the United States. His father had received a promotion from his muggle employer that brought him to their London offices. I thought Dumbledore was helping him make the transition to Hogwart's".

"So the new kid is another half blood?"

"I believe so, yes. Or he's a muggle-born".

"And you know _nothing_ of his familiar - the little purple creature that transfigures into a dragon?"

"I saw no such familiar at Hogwart's. As I explained, I had little contact with him outside of class. As for the students, Hogwart's has hundreds and I can't keep track of all of them, especially the ones who aren't in my House. If anyone knows, it will be Pot-ter and his friends".

Snape had to be very careful: a fine balance between revealing too much or not enough. As for Potter, he wasn't telling Voldemort anything he didn't already know. Inwardly, he cursed Potter and his obstinacy for failing to learn Occlumancy. Whatever it was Voldemort wanted to know, he would soon have his answers.

"You disappoint me, Severus. I trust that in the future you will be more diligent?"

"Yes, of course, Master". Snape was relieved that Voldemort was satisfied, and didn't try using Legilimancy. Then he'd have to fight it off with Occlumancy. Either way, Voldemort would know he was not as loyal as he appeared. Even though he was one of the original Death Eaters fifteen years ago.

"All of you: I am tasking you to bring me more information on this Jadin. Use whatever contacts you have - especially you Lucius. You claim to put on the mask of respectability: I expect you to make good use of it. Do not fail me again".

_Hogwart's_

Hermione and Jadin were down by the lake.

"So what's your summer going to be like?", she asked.

"Muggle high school, catch-up sessions. Not exactly the way I intended to spend my summer. You?"

"Pretty much the same. My folks always insisted I learn muggle ways too. The difference is that I home school. Been doing that ever since I started attending Hogwart's. Only this time, what with Youknowwho being back... don't know how pleasant a summer it'll be".

"And Harry, Ron?"

"Harry's going back to the Dursleys for the summer. Ron, he'll be back at the Burrow. As for what else, who knows?"

"That seems odd. Didn't the Professor get him out of there?"

"He did, but there's something else going on. I don't know what they're planning".

"See you? You can't be busy all the time".

"Sure, I always have free time. We'll get together. Maybe take another trip to Hogsmeade?"

"That'd be great".

_Hogsmeade_

Jadin's parents, Dirk and Cecelia were arriving on the Express. They were traveling with Hermione's parents: Ted and Marilyn Granger.

"Greetins, one an awl", Hagrid began his welcome speech. "Ah'll takes yer'all ter thuh castle in err carriages. Hogwart's would like ter 'stend a warm welcome ter our furss tyme visit'rs. Uhhh... Dirk an Cecelia Weston, Ah'd lyke a werd wiff yers".

"That's us", Dirk called out, not knowing what this was all about.

"Yer's muss be Jadin's folks? Ter P'fesser requessed meh ter tells yer he wants ter see ya in privah".

"Did he say what this is about?", Dirk asked.

"No Suh, he shirly dinna".

To most of the young parents, the carriages seemed to be self propelled.

"Looks like a fairy tale castle", Cecelia observed. "I thought we couldn't see it?"

"Under most circumstances, we can't. However, for parents' days and feast days, exceptions are made for all muggle parents of Hogwart's students", Marilyn explained. "For other muggles, all they see are some uninteresting, ancient ruins. There are also warning signs and spells that discourage any curious explorers".

_Hogwart's_

"There they are!", Jadin called out. He and the rest of the students were awaiting the arrival of their parents in the court yard just below the entrance to the main hall. He waved.

Hermione was standing beside him, doing the same.

"Long time, no see", Jadin greeted his mother with a hug.

"A lot longer than I was expecting".

"You're looking well", Dirk remarked. "Gained a few, didn't-cha?"

"Well, yeah, you'll see why soon enough".

"Looks like Hogwart's been agreeing with you", he said.

"Oh he has...", Hermione agreed. "He's been doing very well in most of his classes".

"Mom, Dad, Hermione Granger", Jadin introduced. "I don't know how I'd've gotten on without her".

"We've heard so much about you. It's good to see you for a change", Cecelia told her.

"You be OK?", Jadin asked Hermione. "They've never seen Hogwart's before".

"Catch up with you later".

"So where's Impmon?", Dirk asked.

"Laying low, at Hagrid's. After what happened last week, he's been too much the object of curiosity to suit him".

"What happened?", Cecelia asked.

"We rescued Harry and his friends at the Department of Mysteries. Lucius Malfoy and a contingent of Death Eaters lured them there".

"Again? That's getting to be a recurring pattern it seems", Dirk remarked.

"If it hadn't been for us, I don't know what would have happened. Even the Dark Lord decided to get involved personally. It was a real mess... Anyway, we're here".

Jadin lifted the silver door knocker. The eagle-shaped knocker immediately spoke up, much to the surprise of his parents.

"Where do vanished object go?", it asked.

"Into nothingness, which is to say into everything".

"I like how you think".

"What was that?", Cecelia asked.

"Every House has its own methods for keeping outsiders, well, out", Jadin explained.

"Some sort of program?", Dirk asked.

"That's what I thought at first. These folks don't use that sort of tech, and don't even understand it. It's magic... and I mean it literally".

The lock clicked: "Here we are: Ravenclaw Common Room. Nicest thing about it is we have a view. We mainly hang out here, play games, fool around between classes".

The bay windows gave a panoramic view of the surrounding countryside, the Forbidden Forest, and the mountains in the distance.

"It is quite nice".

"Ummmm...", Dirk started, "Who's this?", he asked of the statue set in an alcove.

"That's Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the founders of Hogwart's, and the namesake of House Ravenclaw".

"Impressive", he said.

"Her daughter is the house ghost. Some refer to her as the 'gray lady', but she hates that".

"House ghost? You seen her?"

"I haven't, but Impmon has. He can see what we muggles don't see around here. Same goes for Peeves, the poltergeist. He was giving us a hard time once and got a Night of Fire for his troubles. Hasn't bothered us since".

"Sounds like an interesting... experience", Cecelia remarked.

"Not much to see during the winter, though. Girls' dorms're over there; boys' dorms right up here".

He led the way. The dorm room was furnished with comfortable four poster beds, with night stands, and wardrobes. None of these furnishings looking the least bit cheap, or institutional.

"It is much nicer than I expected", his parents agreed.

_Dumbledore's Offices_

Mr Weston, Mrs Weston: welcome to Hogwart's. Please, have a seat", Dumbledore invited, as Jadin and his parents were shown in by Professor McGonagall.

"What's this about?", Dirk asked, suspiciously.

"I'll get to that. As you know, Jadin and Impmon were involved in an incident involving Mr Potter..."

"He mentioned it", Dirk confirmed.

"This time, Lord Voldemort saw Impmon with his own eyes. Up till now, I was hoping his suspicions about the existence of digimon remained just that: suspicions. Unfortunately, it was not to be, as Impmon fought Voldemort himself. There will be no denying Impmon's existence now. I'm afraid this places your son and his partner in greater danger now than ever before..."

"You wanted to see me, Professor?"

"Harry, come in, do come in. Mr and Mrs Weston, Jadin's parents. Mr, Mrs Weston: Harry Potter".

"Pleased to meet you".

"As I was about to explain, this latest incident at the Department of Mysteries has increased the danger to you, your son, and his partner. I'm afraid you will need to make other living arrangements".

"What new arrangements?", Cecelia asked.

"That's where Mr Potter comes in".

"My godfather died during that incident..."

"Sorry for your loss", Dirk said.

"Our condolences", Cecelia added.

"Thanks", Harry replied automatically as he'd done over the past week.

"Anyway, I inherit Sirius' house and everything", Harry explained. "Sirius wanted to keep the Black ancestral home and the Black family fortune out of his relatives' hands, so his will leaves everything to me. I have no desire to ever set foot in that house again, so I would like to leave it for the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. It would also please me if you, Jadin, and Impmon would use it for as long as you need it".

"What's this all about?", Dirk demanded.

"Harry will be returning to his aunt and uncle's for the summer", Dumbledore explained. "It would be for the best if you weren't living in the same town. The less attention Voldemort pays to Jadin, the safer you'll be. As for Harry, he is protected so long as he lives with the closest living relatives of his mother's".

"Look at it this way", Jadin said, "we'll be living closer to London, and in a bigger house".

"What about your school? What about my work?"

"You will be joined at your place of employment by a colleague of mine, as will Jadin. They will be there to protect you, and none of your co-workers or classmates will be any the wiser.

"Sirius' house has an array of wards and protective charms. As it is already being used as our headquarters, these protections have been greatly improved. Voldemort will not be able to track you down there".

"I don't know...", Dirk started, "I mean, it sounds like an awful imposition".

"I assure you, it is the very least we can do, seeing that Jadin saved my life, and Mr Potter's on at least two occasions".

"Really", Harry agreed, "I'd like for you to use it for as long as you'd like".

"If you're sure..."

"We are", Harry insisted.

"I've been there", Jadin added. "It's really a trip, like back to the 1800s: gas jets for light, fireplaces and old radiators for heat. The decorations are, well, a little odd, but there's plenty of room for all of us, and we even have live-in service".

"Sounds... interesting", Cecelia said.

"That reminds me", Harry spoke up. "I'll have Kreacher out of there and sent to Hogwart's".

"I'd prefer if you didn't", Jadin protested. "At his age, how do you expect him to adjust? How much can he do in the kitchens anyway? Besides, it's not like we don't have experience with weird creatures, now is it?"

"Kreacher?", Cecelia asked.

"He's the Black family house elf", Harry explained. "I'd still prefer you not have to deal with him. He's not very pleasant to have around".

"He can't do anything, so long as he's bound. You said so yourself", Jadin objected. "As for Kreacher, just think of him as a digimon. He looks more like a digimon than anything else this side of the Frontier. You got used to Impmon, didn't you?"

"I... don't know...", Dirk began to protest.

"It really is for the best", Dumbledore said.

"I don't see a down side here", Jadin added.

_Great Hall_

Professor Dumbledore stood at the podium shaped like an owl to give his customary commencement speech. The hall was illuminated by hundreds of floating candles.

"I would like to extend a warm welcome to our first time visitors from America: Mr and Mrs. Weston". Polite clapping followed. "This has always been a bitter sweet time of the year, as we say farewell and Godspeed to another class of graduates who will be leaving the Hogwart's family to start new lives and new careers. I would also like to extend our thanks to this year's Fifth Year students for another outstanding performance in this year's OWL exams. Congratulations for holding up the Hogwart's tradition of academic excellence", more applause.

"Also, let us congratulate House Slytherin for winning this year's Quidditch Cup. It was a hard-fought victory", polite applause, with a raucous demonstration from the Slytherin table. Without Potter and the Weasley twins, Gryffindor couldn't take Slytherin.

"As for this year's House Cup, I have discussed the matter with the staff and faculty. It is our consensus that the only fair thing is to roll back the standings as they were before the unfortunate arrival of Dolores Umbridge".

More cheering from the Slytherin table, as Slytherin was ahead on points at that time. Dumbledore held up his hands. The Slytherins fell silent.

"I have some last minute adjustments to the house standings. For their courage and dedication above and beyond expectations, I award fifty points each to Gryffindor for Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom. Fifty points each to House Ravenclaw for Jadin Weston, Impmon, and Luna Lovegood".

Dumbledore waved his wand, and large banners with the House Gryffindor crest appeared, hanging from the high rafters.

Slytherin dropped to third place, behind Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The Slytherins seethed in silent rage as they figured that Dumbledore was playing favorites, awarding the House Cup to Gryffindor for the fifth straight year. The Hufflepuffs also weren't very pleased either, as that fifty points for Impmon was just enough to edge them out. The other house tables clapped politely. Yet another House Cup for Gryffindor, more favoritism from Dumbledore. No one other than Gryffindor and Ravenclaw members were happy about this. Especially not the Slytherin students, as this wasn't the first time they'd been cheated of a House Cup.

"To say it has been an eventful year would be an understatement. As you all know by now, Lord Voldemort has returned to life and full power. This is something which the Minister himself has confirmed. It is as I warned all year. I can not know how this will play out, but we - all of us - are in for some hard times to come. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you: we have lost another good friend: Sirius Black, who, in case you have not yet heard, was killed by one of Voldemort's Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. Let us extend our condolences to Mr. Harry Potter, as Sirius Black was his godfather, and lifelong friend to Harry's father: James Potter. I would like to promise that we will lose no one else, but it is a promise I can not make in good faith.

He continued: "Jadin is a 'Digimon Mentor'. As for what you undoubtedly assumed was his unusual familiar, Impmon is a digimon. He is not a familiar, neither is he a magical being - despite the outward appearance. These are beings who are not of our world, nor of the muggle world. They come from the Digital World. It is my belief that the Wizarding World needs to change, to come up to date. It may be no longer possible to continue to hide from the muggle world. With the return of Voldemort, we need allies, and these are to be found among these digimon.

"You may have heard certain rumours about what took place at the Ministry of Magic, but what you may not know is that Lord Voldemort fought Impmon, though he was in a different form, called a 'digivolution', as a... cybernetic (he had to pause to recall the unfamiliar word) dark dragon called Cyberdramon. Cyberdramon took the Killing Curse for me, saving my life without losing his own. Voldemort saw all of this; he will be _very_ interested in digimon. I can tell you these things because I'm not telling you anything that Lord Voldemort does not already know. And it is something that all of you need to know.

"I would like to wish all of you a pleasant summer, and I hope that it is, but I can not. Now that Voldemort has been exposed prematurely, he is certain to make his move soon. I ask that you be careful. That's the best I can do in these trying times".

Subdued clapping followed the end of Dumbledore's commencement address. It was not Dumbledore's customary cheery commencement address. It was the second commencement in a row over which Voldemort had cast a pall. Last year, it was the announcement that Voldemort was back, and that he had murdered Hogwart's Triwizard champion: Cedric Diggory. There was no denying the truth of what he'd just told them. The feast that followed was up to its usual standards of excellence.

Hermione came running up to Jadin and his parents, clutching a paper. She showed it to Jadin: her OWL exam results: straight 'O' (for outstanding) in every subject, except for Defense Against the Dark Arts, for which she got an 'E' - the second highest grade.

"I knew you could do it", he congratulated.

"I don't feel so good about that 'E'. I was hoping for straight O's", she said with a trace of disappointment. When it came to academics, Hermione tended to have very high expectations.

"Didn't you say that Umbridge sabotaged DADA? If it hadn't been for that, I'm sure you would have. Not your fault".

"I... guess so... How'd you do?"

"I did OK", as he showed his results:

Arithmancy: O  
>Astronomy: O<br>Muggle Studies: E  
>Care of Magical Creatures: O<br>Potions: S

"I'd say considerably better than OK", Hermione commented. "Better than anyone expected; you even got a 'Satisfactory' in Potions. I guess Professor Snape likes you after all".

That was the lowest passing grade, and one Jadin didn't really deserve, as he couldn't brew a proper potion.

"Congratulations to the both of you", Dirk replied. Maybe Hermione was right: he hadn't realized just how well Jadin had adapted to this unexpected situation.

"I'm happy for you", Cecelia said.

_Hogwart's Express_

"When we arrive, Arthur Weasley will be driving us to 12 Grimmauld Place. It's an old, Victorian type house built back in those days, and has plenty of room, so that won't be a problem. However, it's not your run of the mill house since it was built by magicians who practiced the Dark Arts. Some of the furnishings are, well, a bit on the strange side. You will also probably be seeing things..."

"What sort of things?", Jadin's mother asked.

"Visions, apparitions, that sort of thing. They can't really hurt you. Being that it's a magician's house, that also means it attracts some rather strange creatures: Doxies, Boggarts, that sort of thing. Just be careful about opening closets, cupboards, and desk drawers. As I understand it, Molly Weasley and her kids did a lot of cleaning up back in the spring when they reopened the place. I can't say for sure they got everything. I'm not sure we can even see them, but Impmon will be on the look-out for stray magical critters.

Also, watch out for this portrait of Sirius Black's mother: if disturbed, it acts like a video, and yells and screams. It's another thing that'll take some getting used to. If it does, you can silence it with a blast from the fire extinguisher that's kept nearby.

"Whatcha thinking about?", Neville asked Harry. Since neither of them had any family to visit, they shared a compartment.

"I... really cocked up this year, didn't I? Jadin was right. About everything. The way I blew off Snape, believing I had to do it all by myself. The way I treated you guys... Lost Gryffindor the Quiddich Cup..."

"You were just stressed. The return of Youknowwho, Cedric's death, all the nasty things the _Prophet_ was publishing all year, the OWLs - they'll understand. I think you handled it rather well, all things considered".

"Nice of you to say so, but I don't know... I'll be needing to get off owlposts of apology when we get back".

"If it comes to that, we'll still be by your side. That's the one thing you won't have to worry about".

Jadin was also right about how he'd neglected to practice his magic. He knew now that the Dursley's and their mistreatment was more a convenient excuse than anything else. He realized he would need to grow in strength to face Voldemort, and there was not much time left for that.

Jadin, Hermione, and their parents shared a compartment, as they got to know one another better. Impmon stuffed himself with Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Everyflavour Beans.

Harry leaned against the window and dozed off. Long train rides tended to make him sleepy. He found himself back in the Death Chamber.

_(I don't want to see this again!)_

Sirius was falling back into the Gate of Destiny. "Cyberdramon! Stop Harry!", he heard.

At the very edge of conscious awareness: "Who is Cyberdramon?", not a heard question, but rather something at the edge of consciousness.

_(No!)_, he succeeded in blocking out the sight of Cyberdramon on the stone dais.

The scene shifted: Harry was in the lobby. Cyberdramon was shielding Dumbledore from Voldemort's Killing Curse.

_(How does it survive? What is it?)_

_(No!)_, this time, the scene went all watery, then faded out.

"What is it?", Neville asked, as Harry awoke with a start, his scar burning.

"I was... back there... when Sirius... He's trying to make me tell him about Jadin and Impmon. I think I stopped him... this time. It's begun already".

"May be Snape's lessons are more effective than you thought?"

"I... hope so. I hope so".

_King's Cross: Platform 9.75_

Jadin and Hermione embraced, and kissed, despite the presence of their parents. "Will I get to see you over the summer?", he asked.

"I don't live that far off, but I'm not sure. You'll be in summer school, and I... really don't know what I'll be doing, what with Youknowwho on the rampage again".

"Then I'll see you for sure next fall..."

"How can you? You won't be attending Hogwart's next term?"

"The Professor told us that we are welcome so long as he is headmaster. He arranged it so that we can visit whenever we like, so I'll definitely be there for the beginning of the term feast, and all breaks".

"He did that?"

"Yep, made us honorary magi. Even made it official with Minister Fudge's admittedly reluctant agreement, but he sure did".

"That's wonderful!"

"No, Vernon, I'm not coming with you right now. There's something I have to do here in London first".

"That's 'Sir' to you boy..."

"I won't be intimidated by you any more. Not with what's going on lately, and I'm sure Aunt Petunia can tell you just how serious this is. You might have been able to so intimidate her into not talking about it, but she is still a squib, and as the sister of a magician, she still knows just how dangerous Voldemort is. It was before my time, but not yours. You should remember what happened during his last reign of terror. I have my duties and responsibilities, and that's _final_".

Arthur Weasley, Ron and Ginny, Jadin and his parents, and Impmon caught up with them: "Problem?", Arthur asked.

"No, no problem at all", Vernon lied unconvincingly. He really didn't want anything to do with this, but there was precious little he could actually do about it. Vernon never liked the whole idea of the Wizarding World, had forced his wife to leave it, and was less than pleased to learn of the death of Harry's parents, and having to accept the responsibility of caring for the boy, though his mother was his wife's sister. Vernon had made clear the resentment he held towards James and Lily for dieing on him, the contempt which which he held Harry, as he continuously played favourites between Harry and Dudley. Vernon treated Harry the way Sirius treated Kreacher.

"Shall we?", Arthur asked, as he led the way out of the station to the parking lot. He pointed out the beat-up old Ford Anglia he usually drove. It didn't look nearly big enough to accommodate everyone. Jadin's parents were amazed to discover that the inside was as large as any limo, and as well appointed.

"How...?", Cecelia started to ask.

"Manipulating three dimensional space is just one of our many talents", Arthur explained. "I don't know if Jadin's told you, but you won't be able to see the house. As far as anyone knows, there is no 12 Grimmauld Place: it doesn't exist. It appears to those of us who know the password, and to Impmon, but I can assure you: it's there".

"I don't understand how that can be", Dirk replied.

"You're not supposed to, that was the whole point in hiding it".

"That's not what I mean. Hogwart's was also supposed to be something we couldn't see, but we did".

"That was temporary, an exception that we make for the muggle parents of our students. Not every wizard comes from wizarding parentage. We naturally made it for you, as Jadin was one of our students, as we made it for Hermione's parents, and Horace's".

"_How_ will we be able to live there? I have to go to work, and Jadin will need to attend summer school to make up for what he missed, so how do we come home to a 'home' that isn't there?"

"I'll explain later".

Arthur turned off the headlights as they were approaching Grimmauld Place, turned in and pulled up between two houses. "Be quiet; don't attract attention", he warned before everyone got out. A quick look around showed that, so far, no one noticed their arrival.

"Follow me", Harry said as he began to lead them to what looked like a narrow overlapping of side yards. He gave the password, the same one he'd used all year long to gain access to the Gryffindor common room: "Mimbulus mimbletonia" - the classification for a magical plant.

"Now what?", Cecilia asked.

"Just follow me", Jadin said.

"Alohomora", Harry waved his wand, and the door opened. This was the first Jadin's parents saw of the house, the inside, as Harry magically lit all the gas jets. Once inside, everything looked quite normal. As with the car, the inside occupied more space than the outside.

"I guess this is home for now", Dirk said.

"The pantry's stocked, and the bedrooms have been remodeled and freshly painted. You'll find it quite comfortable", Harry said. "I can't say it has all the modern conveniences, but you won't be disturbed here... That reminds me", Harry turned towards the kitchen

"Kreacher! Get out here right now, I need to have a word with you!".

Cecelia and Dirk were startled as the elderly house elf shambled from the kitchen: "Who calls Kreacher?", he asked. Jadin was right: he did look like a digimon.

"You are aware that I inherited this house?"

"Yes, Master".

"You see these people here", he indicated Dirk, Cecelia, Jadin and Impmon. "They speak for me, and you will obey them as you would obey me".

"Yes, Master".

"You understand you will serve them as you serve me".

"Yes, Master".

"Wait, before you go", Jadin called out.

"Yes... Master", he had to force himself to say it. "Kreacher take orders from muggles - disgraceful", he added in that typical, just loud enough to be heard muttering.

"I don't condone what you did: your betrayal of Sirius. I can understand why you did it, the way you've been treated. There are going to be some changes around here. You won't have to sleep on filthy rags in the boiler room anymore. I understand you thought highly of Ms. Black? So I'm giving you her old bedroom. You also won't have to hide your mementos, and can take them with you. It'll be your room, and no one will invade your privacy".

This was the last thing Kreacher ever expected to hear, but concealed all signs of that. Really, that wasn't hard to do since he had no idea as to what to expect from muggles, not even from a Mentor.

"Does Master expect Kreacher to be grateful?"

"That's up to you".

"Kreacher not understand".

"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it because it's the _right_ thing to do. I also know I can't give you clothes, but let's say you find a nice piece of clean linen in the trash, you might consider replacing that filthy old rag".

"How about it, do you have any of that hocus-pocus that can clean up Buckbeak's former stable?", Jadin asked Harry.

"Sure", Harry replied, but without any enthusiasm, as he had not forgiven Kreacher for betraying Sirius.

"Well, let's get to it... Kreacher, you coming?"

Jadin, Harry, and Kreacher headed towards the main staircase.

"I still have to go to work...", Dirk started.

"That's been taken care of. I will be joining you as one of your co-workers", Arthur explained. "I'm not expecting any trouble from the Dark Lord, not in so open a place, but I will be there just in case. No one will suspect a thing, and won't know any different. If there is any trouble, I'll take care of it".

"You can do that? It's not an imposition?"

"Far from it: it's part of my job as the Ministry's muggle expert. It's something I've always been wanting to do: actually sample muggle life for myself. Besides, the old Anglia has more than one trick up its sleeve".

"What about Jadin?"

"When he starts this summer school, he'll be going with another associate of mine: Nymphadora Tonks. She's a shape shifter, and will be seen as another student. Jadin already knows her, so there's no problem there".

"How does Jadin know this person? She doesn't go to Hogwart's?" This was the first indication that Jadin was in much deeper than Dirk had ever suspected.

"Tonks graduated and works for the Ministry of Magic as an auror. Jadin, myself, Tonks: all of us are members of the Order of the Phoenix".


	16. Summer Vacation

**16) Summer Vacation**

The adjustment took some time as the Black house lacked every modern convenience. That meant having to learn how to light the gas chandeliers, how to make a fire in order to use the oven. The "ice box" was literally an ice box. Jadin wondered if they shouldn't replace it with one of those propane refrigerators. He made a mental note to look into it. Even though he was surly, Jadin knew he was right in insisting that Kreacher remain. He performed his duties half-heartily, doing the bare minimum requested of him, but it was better than nothing.

Every morning, Arthur arrived to take Dirk to work. A few judiciously applied memory altering spells, and he fit right in, no one being any the wiser. As far as they knew, Arthur Weasley had been working there for years.

For once, Jadin was almost looking forward to summer school. His lap top couldn't boot here, there was no possibility of cable or DVDs, and the only sources of news was the still active subscription to the _Daily Prophet_, and a copy of the _Times_ Dirk had promised to pick up every day.

"Kreacher, we would prefer our eggs fried, not burnt", Jadin explained.

"Master ordered Kreacher to make breakfast, and that's what Kreacher did", the old house elf defended.

"In the first place, we didn't order you. We asked if you would make breakfast, and you agreed".

"There is no difference to Kreacher. I obey only because Harry Potter ordered Kreacher".

"I would think you'd take a little more pride in your work. If you don't want to serve us, that's fine. Just say so. We can do our own cooking from now on".

"Master isn't going to punish Kreacher?"

"No, Kreacher, I'm not. If it were up to me, which it isn't, I would set you free and let you make up your own mind about whether you wanted to serve us or not. But it isn't since I don't own you; that doesn't mean we have to treat you as if we did... I also noticed you weren't in your room".

"Kreacher is not worthy. That room belongs to Mistress".

"Where did you get that idea? Besides, your Mistress is long gone. I hardly think she is in any position to object. If she cared anything about you, then she would not mind. I highly doubt that Regulus would mind either..."

"Kreacher's place is in the boiler room..."

"Your place is with us. I gave you that room, I promised that you could take all your mementos with you, that you no longer have to hide them since no one here will take them from you. I said you could have your privacy, and I meant it".

"Can Kreacher go now?"

"Yes, you can".

"F'kin muggles, what're they up to?", he muttered in that barely understandable way he usually did.

"Hellsamatter with him?", Impmon asked.

"I don't know, other than he has never been treated very well, and he doesn't know how to react to kindness".

"Poor bastard"

"Poor bastard, indeed", Jadin agreed.

**0XFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The latest edition of the _Prophet_ brought more bad news. Since the incident at the Department of Mysteries, Voldemort was acting more openly, now that his secret was out. He was demanding that Cornelius Fudge resign to make way for Voldemort's cat's paw. If he refused, then Voldemort threatened to terrorize the muggle population. So far, Fudge was holding out, though his popularity was in free fall among the Wizarding Community.

One of the promised pamphlets regarding security arrived, and it was mostly useless. Warnings of not going out alone, staying at home and avoiding all but absolutely necessary trips. Mostly muggle common sense. The exceptions involved admonishments to check residential wards and protective charms, establishing pass words to thwart any Death Eaters who might try impersonation by means of Polyjuice. Jadin wondered about that last bit of advice. Polyjuice didn't work without a hair sample. If the Death Eater had access to the victim and his hair, then why not just use the Cruciatus to get the pass word? Safe words and pass words worked for muggles, but he had his doubts when it came to magi.

Jadin wasn't the only one who noticed. These pamphlets were widely ridiculed and offered up as evidence as to the Minister's incompetence.

_Brockdale Bridge_

The newly materialized digimon looked around as the last of the digital field dissipated. Was this it? The Material World? She was pleased to see this was a remote area. She ran her paws through her soft yellow fur, saw that she was now physically female, as well as being female by personality and disposition. A real heart beat in her chest; real air filled her lungs. New scents came to her upturned nose. The sky had a very unnatural look to it. The colour was a good deal paler than what she was used to. There was a yellow sun in the sky instead of the Material World Sphere.

Something caught her sensitive digimon hearing...

"Here they come!", one of the black robed, silver masked, Death Eaters called out.

He slid down the embankment where his two partners in crime awaited. This was what they were waiting for: a long line of cars they could send into the river, causing many muggle deaths. Their Dark Lord was sure to be pleased.

There were over a dozen cars crossing the bridge...

"Descendo!", they fired this spell at the center support pier. The under structure dropped several feet onto the top of the pier, cracking the bridge and pavement in two. Tires screeched, there were bangs of rear end collisions. People were getting out.

"One more and it should come down", one remarked. He was disappointed this wouldn't be as clean a job as hoped. These muggle engineers knew their jobs better than the Death Eaters realized, not having any understanding of the profession.

"What are you doing?!", she said as she stepped into view.

"We've been spotted!", one called out. "I thought you cleared the area! You fool!"

"_Fuck'reyou?!_"

"Avada Kadavra!"

The green burst missed. Whatever it was, it seemed to just disappear. Too late did he realize the figure leaped out of the way.

"Diamond Storm!"

The digimon disappeared into the surrounding woods.

_12 Grimmauld Place_

The headline of this morning's edition of the Prophet caught Jadin's attention.

**DEATH EATERS THWARTED!**

**Strange Creature Sighted**

_Yesterday afternoon, three Death Eaters attempted to bring down the Brockdale Bridge on the orders of Hewhomustnotbenamed to carry out his threat of mass killings of muggles. Had they been successful, at least a dozen cars would have plunged into the river far below, resulting in a massive loss of life. The Obliviators arrived within minutes of the incident, upon the detection of magic in a muggle area. According to a muggle witness:_

"_I know you're going to think I'm nuts, but I don't care. I know what I saw. It was a were-fox. It was about six feet tall, yellow with white fur running down the front, and it stood like a human, on two legs._

"_One of those terrorist assholes fired a laser at it, but it leaped out of the way. Next, it fired what looked like shards of glass back at them, cut them to pieces. There was blood everywhere, and it happened faster than it takes to tell about it._

"_The were-fox dropped to all fours and ran into the woods. That was the last I saw of it"._

Jadin felt his pulse quicken: "Impmon! You gotta come here and see this!"

_The Obliviators erased all memories of the incident, and conducted a search for the mysterious creature without success, as no trace of it was found. It is not known what these witnesses actually saw as the description fits that of no known magical beings or creatures or even non-beings or spirits._

"_We're not allowed to talk about it; don't ask me anything", said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night. _

_Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the damage done to the bridge is being attributed to a structural failure. Critical details are being with held for now._

_It is not known what the creature's motivations may have been. The Ministry reminds everyone against spreading false rumours that these creatures, whatever they may prove to be, are allies against Hewhomustnotbenamed._

**Memory Collected From Muggle Witness**

There was even an image recovered from a pensieve

_If anyone can identify this being, they are urged to contact Magical Law Enforcement immediately._

"Pretty obvious, isn't it?", Jadin asked.

"Renamon", Impmon agreed.

"The only question now is, did she have a partner?", Jadin asked.

"No tellin'", Impmon said, "None was mentioned, so I suppose she's a loner".

"If digimon are appearing here, there must be more Mentors. I guess there will be another meeting pretty soon".

That evening, the _Times_ told a very different story:

"_The Brockdale Bridge was just ten years old, and passed its last inspection just a year ago. There should have been no structural failure, there was no sign of unsual corrosion, no indication of impending fatigue failure. Regardless, a disaster was avoided due to the fail safe engineering of the bridge. Even though it was damaged, the bridge didn't collapse, and no lives were lost. That's one thing everyone is forgetting"._

_There have been accusations that the government has been incompetent in either the design of the bridge, or its subsequent maintenance. The office of the Prime Minister has denied all accusations of either incompetence or corruption in the use of substandard steel and concrete._

"_We regret the inconvenience, and we will have the bridge repaired and opened for service as soon as possible"._

_The office of the Prime Minister denies all speculation that this was a terrorist incident, and points out that there is no evidence that explosive devices or deliberate sabotage were involved._

No mentions of either Death Eaters or strange creatures. No mentions of bodies. At least the Ministry was efficient in some areas.

There was another story that just didn't add up: a freak "hurricane" struck the west coast of the North Country. This made no sense, as the prevailing winds blew in the opposite direction. Nor was a hurricane likely to survive the cold North Atlantic long enough to get that far. The pictures of the damage also didn't look right. A lot of the destroyed homes looked as though smashed from above. This wasn't what wind damage looked like, bore no resemblance to tornado damage, nor hurricane damage from Florida hurricanes.

That afternoon, Jadin caught up with Tonks during the noon break. She was attending, using her shape-shifting abilities to attempt to blend in with her bright pink hair. She had chosen as her persona that of a street wise kid with a heavy Cockney accent.

"We really shouldn't be seen together", she admonished.

"Seen this morning's _Prophet?_", he asked.

"What of it?", she asked.

He pulled out a handful of cards, thumbed through them: "Here, take a look at this".

Tonks studied the details.

"Look familiar?"

"Renamon, you think it was this one?"

"I'm sure of it. Look what it says here for attacks: 'Diamond Storm'. It _had_ to be her".

"How can you be so sure? There was nothing said about any human companions".

"When you get back to HQ, how about ask around? See what they know and aren't saying?"

"The Minister said..."

"Yeah, I know what he said. But if there are more Mentors, more digimon, wouldn't that be worth knowing?"

_Malfoy Manor_

Lord Voldemort leaned against the long conference table, and turned so his face was but inches from Snape's: "Severus", he began in that pleasant tone that always meant a dangerous outburst of temper was bubbling just beneath the surface. "Severus, my oldest friend and most trusted adviser, how is it you have failed me?"

"Master, Dumbledore's speech was as big a shock to me as it was to every other member of the faculty and student body. I would never have suspected that anything like digimon really exist".

"And still you know nothing of these digimon?"

"To the contrary, Master, I do know about them. It would seem that these digimon are fictional characters and game characters for muggle kids..."

"Really, Severus, I have lost three dedicated and loyal Death Eaters, and you expect me to believe cartoon characters did this? Really, Severus? Something is interfering with my plans; something that is making me look bad as I am losing faithful followers, and this is all you can tell us? You never saw that... thing before Dumbledore's speech? Do you take me for a fool?"

"No Master, as for that Impmon, I never saw it anywhere around Hogwart's until Dumbledore introduced it. I also don't believe it was ever there at Hogwart's to be seen in the first place. As for these characters, it would appear that they really do exist somehow. It would appear that the one which may have appeared at the bridge is another digimon character.

"I suspect that it's Dumbledore's doing, some sort of transfiguration charm, or an illusion charm to make it look like cartoon characters are fighting Death Eaters. I suspect that this is a subterfuge on Dumbledore's part, perhaps to distract our attention from his Order of the Phoenix. It would be like Dumbledore to utilize just that kind of misdirection".

"Severus, how is it that that Impmon survived the Killing Curse? If I didn't know you better, I'd suspect you are being less than forthcoming; perhaps the Cruciatus will improve your memory?", as he brandished his wand. "If you weren't such a _dear_ old friend, I might suspect you were playing both ends against the middle?"

"Of course not, Master, I've held nothing back... As for Impmon and how he survived, he wouldn't die if he were never alive. If this were some sort of illusion, something inanimate that Dumbledore had enchanted to do his bidding, then it wouldn't work, now would it?"

"Do you expect me to believe this?"

"Unless there is a better explanation; I'm willing to listen to alternate suggestions", Snape said as he cast his eyes over the assembled Death Eaters. None spoke up.

"Perhaps you've been too long in Dumbledore's service? Perhaps your loyalties aren't as certain as they once were?"

"Master, I _assure_ you..."

"We shall see. I will give you one final chance to redeem yourself from your less than effective service lately. I also have something special in mind for Lucius as well".

Hearing that, Lucius squirmed involuntarily. Voldemort noticed and his snake-like lips twisted into a smirk. Narcissa took his hand beneath the table where no one could see.

"Master, I'm grateful for whatever opportunity you offer, and I shall not fail you".

"We shall see, we shall see..."

Suddenly, Voldemort stood, his attitude changed: "Onto further business"

"My Lord", Lucius spoke up, "word around the Ministry is that Cornelius will be asked to step down, perhaps within the week. Our operatives at the _Daily Prophet_ are keeping up the pressure, though it hardly seems necessary".

"The fool has defied me for too long", Voldemort complained. "I was not expecting him to show as much backbone as he has. Who is to replace him?"

"There are several candidates whose names are being tossed about. None threatening".

"Very well, Lucius. As for Potter?"

"My Lord, Potter is back with his relatives, and we can't get at him. Although this will come to an end when Potter comes of age. I suggest he be kept there, then we can get at him", another traitor within the Ministry reported.

"That is all you have?"

"That is all there is to report".

"Very well. We wait for now. As for this meddlesome Mentor and his familiar?"

"The creature has dropped out of sight. As for the Weston boy, I have it on good authority that he is attending muggle school".

"That is interesting".

"The same as the Granger girl..."

"The mudblood who's been interfering with my plans for all too long now. Why does this not surprise me? These mudbloods and blood traitors might as well be muggles. They don't deserve to be numbered among we magi".

**0XFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Merry Olde England was a good deal less merry these days. Jadin sensed it among the students. Unlike them, he knew the reason behind the appearance of unseasonable cold and misty weather, the gloom that had settled over the country, the political unrest. The dementors were beginning to prey on muggles.

There was a gruesome murder of one Amelia Bones. A late middle-aged woman living alone, killed brutally behind a door locked from the inside, the police clueless and with not a single suspect or other persons of interest. With a last name like "Bones", Jadin knew right off that this was no ordinary random victim of some random act of brutality. Just three blocks from 10 Downing St, there was another scandalous murder of another middle-aged lady, living alone, right there in broad daylight, on a crowded street, and yet not a single witness, the police clueless, and without a suspect: the Emmiline Vance case. It was quite embarrassing for the government: lawlessness just blocks from the Prime Minister's residence. Even though the victim's name seemed unremarkable, the decidedly off circumstances marked this as another magical murder, so far as Jadin was concerned.

"What're you doing?", Tonks asked. Jadin had stayed after school to make use of the computer lab.

"Looking for signs of digimon activity. If Renamon is here, there are probably lots of others as well".

"How will you know?"

"Look here".

Tonks came closer to look at the screen.

"These areas here", Jadin pointed out a weather map, "look to be free of that mist". He clicked on a different screen. "Not everywhere are people reporting the sudden epidemic of depression".

"You think digimon are there?"

"I'd bet on it".

He clicked on an icon and printed out some pages.

_12 Grimmauld Place_

Just as he expected, members of the Order began arriving after dark. To the consternation of his parents, Jadin and Impmon disappeared behind the drawing room doors, and the Impenetrable and Muffliato Charms that prevented them from knowing what was going on.

"I have more bad news", Arthur Weasley was explaining. "There have been two more confirmed Dementor attacks on muggles. Igor Karkaroff was found dead in a shack in the North. Murdered, assassinated, and the Dark Mark was placed over the scene so there would be no doubt about what happened, who's responsible".

"Karkaroff?", Remus said, "I'm surprised he lasted so long. He almost made it a year since leaving the Death Eaters. If I recall, Regulus didn't last even a week".

"They are certainly efficient", Arthur agreed. "It would seem that Ollivander is also gone..."

"The wand-maker?", Tonks asked.

"That's the one", Arthur confirmed. "It looks like he's left voluntarily, no signs of a struggle. Of course, that doesn't mean he hasn't been kidnapped".

"What will we do for wands?", Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.

"Use other wand-makers", Lupin added. "Though Ollivander was the best... If the other side has him, it's not so good for us", Lupin stated the obvious.

"I would like to discuss this business of the Brockdale Bridge", Jadin asked.

"What of it?", Mad Eye asked.

"Here, Jadin passed around the card. I believe..."

"Then you also know the Ministry doesn't want false rumours..."

"It's only a 'rumour' to them because they don't know about digimon. We do".

"Damn straight, Mad Eye", Impmon said, much to his displeasure.

"I also identified locations of possible digimon activity..."

"We're not here to talk about it!", Mad Eye objected.

"Jadin, I appreciate you were asked to join the Order. I disagreed for the same reason we didn't want Harry and his friends to join either. You want to help, but you're too inexperienced. Don't let your youthful enthusiasm lead you astray".

"OK, then, how about I pop on down to the Ministry, tell 'em everything I know. The article in the _Prophet_ said that anyone with information should come forward. Maybe I should do just that?"

"That is the last thing you should do!", Mad Eye protested.

"I bet they'd take me seriously..."

"And you will be putting yourself – and us – in extreme danger. Son..."

"I'm not your damn son".

"What do you think you know?", Shacklebolt asked.

He passed out the pages he printed: "These areas that're free of that mist, the cold: this looks like digimon activity..."

"That's preposterous!", Mad Eye thundered.

"Is it? Really? Then how would you explain it? Can you tell me your Ministry has anything to do with it? Do you really believe I'm so special that I'm the only one with a digimon? That no one else could ever have a digimon?"

"The description doesn't even vaguely resemble Impmon".

"There are lots of digimon. Hundreds of species, and not all even look like animals. There are plant digimon, machine digimon, and even digimon who look like inanimate objects. We impmon are hardy the only digimon", Impmon explained.

"What else does the Ministry know?", Jadin asked.

"Nothing..."

"Not according to the _Prophet.._."

"What're you on about?"

"It says right here: 'Crucial details are being with held'"

"I asked around", Tonks spoke up. "The Obliviators recovered some of those projectiles. They can't identify what they are".

"There you go: Death Eaters turned into hamburger, and Renamon's main attack is 'Diamond Storm', that pretty much confirms it. Those fragments come from the Digital World, so they wouldn't be able to identify it because it doesn't resemble anything the Material World can produce. I know the article didn't mention a partner, but that doesn't mean there aren't more Mentors here, right now".

"How can you tell?"

"Contact them through their digivices, warn them, ask them to help..."

"That's the _last_ thing you should do", Mad Eye objected.

"Isn't that a little cold, even for you?", Tonks admonished.

"No, it isn't. If Hewhomustnotbenamed uses Legilimancy on Mr. Weston here, he will know who and where these Mentors are if they exist at all. If he doesn't know, then neither can he".

"What about protection?"

"The Office of Aurors is spread thin enough as it is, what with having to protect the muggle Prime Minister, members of his cabinet, Mr. Potter, we can't send even more to protect these Mentors. Besides, if Jadin is right – not saying he is – but if he's right, then it looks like they can take care of themselves without our help. Jadin, I hope for your sake, and ours, that you don't go and do something extremely foolish. Leave it alone for now".

_Spinner's End_

Down by the river that flows by the coal yards stand wooden houses, with shutters torn down. Most were vacant, and had been for a long while. Some with windows boarded up, the rest broken out. The only sign of life was a scrawny stray dog foraging along rubbish strewn banks, looking for either some remnants of aquatic life, perhaps left-over fish and chips carelessly discarded. To a quiet pop, the dog pricked up its ears, as a tall figure wrapped in a dark cloak materialized. The figure, perhaps momentarily disoriented from its apparition looked around, chose a direction, and headed further up the bank.

A second pop, a second cloaked figure, and the dog pressed itself closer to the ground. A burst of a greenish beam, a brief yip, and the dog fell back, dead. The second figure prodded at it with a toe: "Just a stray dog", she said, "I was afraid it might have been an auror in disguise".

She turned to the other figure: "Cissy!", she called out, "Wait!"

"Go back, Bella, you're not gonna talk me out..."

"This is madness. Do you know what he'll do if he finds out you disobeyed a direct order?"

"Then _you_ go back, Bella. He's not your son..."

"Listen to me!", Bella pleaded.

"No! You listen! We've discussed this already; there's nothing left to discuss. _You_ go back!"

By now, the woman called Cissy had climbed the bank, and was standing in front of a steel guard rail that separated a well worn road from the bank. Bella soon joined her.

"He lives _here_?", she asked incredulously, as she looked around. "_Here_: in this shithole? We're probably the first of our kind to ever set foot in this place".

"He stays here when he comes to London. Besides, can you think of a better place to go unnoticed?", she said as she climbed over the guard rail, and headed down the street.

"Wait, Cissy!", Bella pleaded once again. "How do you know you can even trust him?"

"The Dark Lord trusts him, isn't that good enough?"

"I believe the Dark Lord is... mistaken", she had to force herself to say it. She couldn't help but look around, despite knowing they were quite alone. "Besides, you were ordered not to mention anything of this to anyone. It's a betrayal of the Dark Lord's trust", Bella grabbed at Cissy's robe.

Narcissa Malfoy whipped out her wand, and thrust it in Bellatrix's face: "Your _own_ sister... you _wouldn't_...", Bellatrix challenged.

"There's nothing I'm not prepared to do. Not anymore", Narcissa threatened. With that, she slashed with the wand. Bella let go as if burned. Narcissa rushed ahead, deeper into the surrounding shanties. Through an alley, she came to an old street called Spinner's End. Bellatrix now kept her distance as she followed. Resigned that her sister would not be deterred, she could only hope to limit the damage, and mitigate the Dark Lord's punishment.

The only light came from a window, the very last house along the lane. This one, yet another shanty that looked little better than the ones surrounding it. Before Bella could catch up, Narcissa was already knocking at the door. The last of the daylight was disappearing, and already a moist night chill was setting in. She could smell the dirty river from here, as the scent was carried on a light evening breeze. As Bellatrix was catching up, the door opened a sliver. Narcissa threw back her hood, letting long blond hair spill out, to be recognized. Her skin so pale that it almost glowed in the last traces of twilight.

"Narcissa", greeted a man with long, greasy-looking black hair, and a sallow complexion.

"Severus", she whispered, "May I have a word with you?"

"But of course", he said as he opened the door.

"Snape", Bellatrix greeted as she pushed her way inside.

"Charming as always, Bella", Snape said with heavy sarcasm.

The walls of the main living room were covered, floor to ceiling, with books, most of which were bound in black or dark brown leather. The room had an air of neglect, as the shanty wasn't frequently occupied. Beneath a lantern holding a single candle was a beat up old sofa, a small, somewhat rickety table, and an over stuffed arm chair. All looking like they came from some second-hand or used furniture store. There were no other furnishings. It was obvious that this was strictly temporary lodgings. Narcissa Malfoy threw off the cloak, and sat down on the sofa, hands trembling in her lap. Bellatrix elected to keep her cloak on, as she stood behind her sister. They could not contrast more: Bellatrix being as dark as her sister was fair, heavily lidded eyes, strong jaw. Catlike, her gaze never left Snape.

"We are... are we alone?", Narcissa asked.

"Quite", Snape replied. "What's this all about? Why did you want to see me?", he asked. "Wine?", he offered, as he went to fetch a bottle of elf-made wine, and three glasses. These he placed on a tray and set it on the small table. He poured three glasses of the blood-red wine.

"The Dark Lord", he saluted as he raised his glass before draining its contents in one gulp. The sisters followed his lead. He refilled the glasses.

"I'm so sorry to come to you like this, but I don't know where else to turn. I know I wasn't supposed to talk about it..."

"Then you should hold your tongue!", Bella snapped. "Especially in present company!"

"Present company?", Snape asked sardonically. "And just what is that supposed to mean?", he asked.

"I don't trust you, Snape, as you damn well know", Bella replied.

"Let's get this out of the way right now to avoid tedious repetition later. Why don't you trust me?", he asked.

Bella crossed around the back of the sofa, slammed the wine glass back onto the table: "Alright: a hundred and one reasons, Snape. But for starters: Where were you when the Dark Lord fell? Why did you not make any effort to find and recover him? What have you been doing all these years while you were living as Dumbledore's pet? Why did you prevent the Dark Lord's recovering the Philosopher's Stone? Why did you not return at once when you knew the Dark Lord had been reborn? Where were you just a few weeks ago when we were trying to recover the Dark Lord's prophecy? And why is Harry Potter still alive? He's been right there, under your nose, for _five_ years now".

Snape smiled. This unnerved Bellatrix a bit.

"Before I answer you, and I _will_ answer, let me ask a couple of questions of my own. Do you really think I haven't already been asked these very questions, and more, by the Dark Lord himself? Had I not given him satisfactory answers, do you really think I'd be here, having this conversation with you now? You can carry my words back to those who whisper and gossip behind my back, and spread false rumours of my supposed lack of loyalty to the Dark Lord".

She hesitated: "I know he believes you..."

"And you think he's mistaken? Or that I have somehow put one over on him? The Dark Lord: the greatest wizard and most accomplished Legilimens to have lived in two centuries? Really, Bella?"

Bellatrix looked positively discomfited, but Snape didn't press that point. He took a sip of wine, and continued: "As to my whereabouts that night, I was right where the Dark Lord ordered me to be: at Hogwart's. You do realize, don't you, that I took the position on the Dark Lord's behest in order to keep an eye on Albus Dumbledore?"

She nodded slightly, and started to say something, but Snape forestalled her: "As for why I didn't look for the Dark Lord, it was for the same reasons that Avery, Yaxley, the Carrows, MacNair...". He paused for dramatic effect: "...Lucius, didn't come looking for him either. We believed he was gone, that there was no use. I was wrong, and I'm ashamed to have to admit it, but there it is. If he was not willing to forgive those of us who lost faith, he would have precious few followers today".

"He'd still have me!', Bellatrix complained, "me: who spent many years in Azkaban for him!"

"Yes, indeed, most admirable of you, and a fine gesture it was..."

"Gesture!", she complained. "While I was enduring the Dementors, you remained at Hogwart's, comfortable, playing the role of Dumbledore's pet!"

"Hardly", Snape replied, remaining quite calm. "After all, Dumbledore wouldn't give me the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship. Didn't want to expose me to any temptation that might lead to a relapse, I guess".

"You didn't get to teach your favourite subject, big _F'KIN'_ deal! Then _why_ didn't you resign if you were so unhappy? Are you gonna tell me that you spent sixteen years 'spying' (finger quotes) for a Master you believed dead and gone?"

Snape slipped out of this "gotcha" quite as easily as the others: "Of course I stayed! You remember what it was like back then? The Ministry was rounding up Death Eaters left, right, and center. Dumbledore's protection kept me out of Azkaban. I have a comfortable, respectable, well-paid position and I found doing 'time' (finger quotes) at Hogwart's a _helluvalot_ more preferable to doing time in Azkaban. I repeat: the Dark Lord had no complaints about my remaining at the post he assigned to me, so I see no reason why you should.

"I believe your next question", he said in a louder tone of voice to shut up Bellatrix, as it looked like she was going to interrupt, "Was about the Philosopher's Stone. At that time, the Dark Lord was in a very bad way, sharing a body with a _decidedly_ mediocre wizard. He could not afford to reveal himself to someone about whom he was not 100% certain, as he was so weak. If I had, indeed, gone over to Dumbledore's side, I might have betrayed him to Dumbledore or the Ministry. It is indeed unfortunate he did not confide in me, as he would have returned to power three years sooner. I watched the greedy, and more importantly, unworthy, Quirrell attempt to steal the Stone for himself. Naturally, I did everything in my power to see that he didn't acquire it".

Bellatrix's mouth twisted as though she'd taken a sip of a particularly foul tasting potion. "But you didn't return when he came back. You didn't come flying when you felt the Dark Mark burn..."

"That's right, I didn't return at once. I returned two hours later, on Dumbledore's orders..."

"On Dumbledore's orders!", she exclaimed.

"Think!", he barked. "Think! By waiting just two hours, I ensured that I could remain at Hogwart's! Don't you see? By making it look like I was returning to the Dark Lord only because Dumbledore wanted me to, I have been able to remain, passing on information about Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix. Consider this, Bella, the Dark Mark had been growing stronger for at least several months prior to his reappearance. I knew he was coming; all Death Eaters knew. I had more than enough time to plan my escape the same way Karkaroff did, were I of such mind. I didn't do that, did I?

The Dark Lord's initial displeasure at my seeming tardiness vanished completely when I explained that I continued playing the role of Dumbledore's man, that I remained faithful. The Dark Lord thought I'd left him, but he was wrong about that".

"Of what use have you been? What valuable information have you turned over?"

"My information is turned over to the Dark Lord directly. If he sees fit not to share it with you..."

"He would _never_ keep anything from me! He says I'm his most faithful servant..."

"Does he? Does he still, even after that cock-up at the Ministry?"

"That was not my fault!", Bella complained. "The Dark Lord has always entrusted me with his most precious... If Lucius hadn't screwed up..."

"Don't!", Narcissa hissed at her sister. "Don't you _dare_ blame my husband!"

"There is no sense in assigning blame. What's done is done", Snape appealed for calm and reason.

"Not by you, it wasn't!", Bella complained. "Once _again_, you were _nowhere_ in sight as the rest of us took all the risk. Isn't that right, Snape?"

"I was right where I was ordered to be. Perhaps you disagree with the Dark Lord? Perhaps you think Dumbledore wouldn't've noticed if I had gone running off to the Ministry where half the Order of the Phoenix was fighting? That they wouldn't notice I was fighting side-by-side with Death Eaters? Forgive me: you speak of risk, but really all you were facing was a half-dozen teenagers, weren't you?"

"You damn well know they were soon joined by the Order of the Phoenix, and that strange dragon that you don't seem to know anything about. You still claim you can't reveal the location of their headquarters, don't you?"

"How, pray tell, would I know about something that's basically a rumour? I wasn't there; I didn't see it, and Dumbledore hasn't seen fit to tell me what he knows. And you know that I am not the Secret Keeper? I can't name the place, and I'm sure you understand how the enchantment works? The Dark Lord is satisfied with the information I've given him. It has, after all, led to the capture and elimination of Emmeline Vance, Amanda Bones, and it certainly helped get that Sirius Black out of the way, though I give you full credit for the final elimination".

Snape nodded his head at Bellatrix as he raised his glass in a wordless toast. Her expression did not soften in the least.

"You're still avoiding my last question: why is Potter still alive?"

"You were out of the loop, unaware of the rumours going around at the time: that Potter bore the Dark Lord's mark, and might possibly have been infused with his dark powers. If I had killed him, I had no reason to suspect that I wouldn't be killing a great Dark Wizard, second only to the Dark Lord himself. Why would I do such a thing? He could have been a living symbol around whom the remaining Death Eaters might rally.

I soon realized that Potter is mediocre to the N-th degree, but like his father, obnoxious, and filled with self-satisfaction. It is true, he escaped a few close calls, but that was due to pure luck, and the back-up of far more talented friends, especially Dumbledore and the Granger girl. Without them, he is nothing. As for killing him, why would I murder Dumbledore's pet? It was Dumbledore who was keeping he out of Azkaban! Surely, he would not continue doing so had I murdered his favourite student, or even allowed him to die in my presence with Dumbledore so close by? I did everything in my power to have him expelled from Hogwart's - a school he is _barely_ qualified to attend. I was not successful, I admit".

"Through all of this we're expected to believe Dumbledore has never suspected you? That he trusts you implicitly even now?", Bellatrix asked.

"I have played my role very well", Snape explained. "You are also forgetting Dumbledore's greatest weakness: his desire to see the very best in everyone. I spun for him a tale of the deepest remorse and regret when I joined the faculty fresh from my Death Eater days. His only reticence has been that he has done his best to keep me as far removed from the Dark Arts as possible. However, Dumbledore is getting on in years, and the fight at the Ministry has taken its toll. But through all these years, he continues to trust good Severus Snape, and in that lies my greatest value to the Dark Lord".

Bellatrix remained unconvinced, though he had deftly parried all her gotchas. She was left speechless, and he took advantage of that. "Narcissa, what's concerning you so?", he asked.

"I... I think you're the only one who can help me", she said, with a look of despair. "I have no one else to turn to. Lucius can't help, not now, not the way the Dark Lord feels about him. I know the Dark Lord has forbidden me to speak of it..."

"Then you shouldn't", Snape gently admonished. "As you're undoubtedly aware, the Dark Lord's word is law".

"See, Cissy? Even Snape says you shouldn't be talking about it", Bellatrix reminded her.

Snape got up and wandered to the window, pulling back the curtain to look out into the night. "It so happens that I know all about this mission he has forbidden you to mention, so you're not really betraying his confidence". He snapped the curtains closed again, and continued in a low voice: "Nevertheless: had I not been aware of the plan, you would be committing a great treachery against the Dark Lord himself. I hope, for your sake, you will be more careful about following the Dark Lord's instructions".

"_You_ know?", Bellatrix asked incredulous, "_You_ know?"

"Of course, I have the Dark Lord's fullest confidence. But what help do you need Narcissa? If it's your idea that I can talk the Dark Lord out of it, I can assure you I can not. It would be foolish to even make the attempt".

"Severus", Narcissa began, tears beginning to roll down her pale cheeks. "My son... my only son..."

"Draco should be proud", Bellatrix crowed. "The Dark Lord has bestowed on him a great favour. At least _he_ isn't shirking from his responsibilities. You should be proud to have such a son".

"Of course he wouldn't! He's just sixteen, and has _no_ idea as to what he's getting himself into! Why Severus? Why _my_ son? This is revenge for Lucius' mistake, isn't it?"

Snape said nothing as he looked away from Narcissa's tears, as though it was a sight unworthy of him.

"If Draco succeeds, he will be honoured above every other Death Eater", Snape reminded her.

"How can he? Not even the Dark Lord himself..."

Bellatrix gasped at such heresy, and Narcissa seemed to realize the dangerous territory she was entering. "What I mean is, that nobody has succeeded... Severus, please, you are and have always been Draco's favourite professor. You are Lucius' old friend. you are the Dark Lord's favourite, and his most trusted adviser. I'm sure he would listen; I'm sure you can persuade him..."

"The Dark Lord won't be persuaded, and I'm not stupid enough to even try. I can't pretend that the Dark Lord is not highly displeased with Lucius: he is quite angry. Lucius was in charge; he got himself captured and sent to Azkaban, he got three good Death Eaters killed, he allowed the Dark Lord himself to come under a vicious attack from some unknown creature, and on top of all of that, the Dark Lord didn't get to hear his prophecy. No, Narcissa, the Dark Lord is quite angry, and rightfully so".

"Then I was right all along? He chose Draco to get even? He expects Draco to die trying?"

Snape said nothing, and Narcissa lost what little composure she had left. She grabbed the lapels of Snape's robes, her face close enough to his that her tears dropped onto his chest: "_You_ could do it. _You_ could succeed, then you would receive all the honours. Yes, you could..."

Snape took her wrists, and forced her to let go: "I do believe that he intends me to complete the mission, but it is the Dark Lord's desire that Draco should make the first attempt. You see, should Draco pull it off, I get to remain at Hogwart's a while longer. It makes perfect sense".

"You're telling me it doesn't matter to the Dark Lord whether Draco succeeds or fails, lives or dies?"

"The Dark Lord is very angry; you know as well as I that he does not tolerate failure very well, and he is quite slow to forgive".

"My only son... my _only_ son...", Narcissa continued to lament.

"You should be proud!", her sister crowed again. "If I had sons, I would _gladly_ give them up to the service of the Dark Lord!"

"That's easy enough for you to say; you have no sons - or daughters for that matter!", Narcissa snapped back.

"That's enough Bella!", Snape reprimanded.

Turning back to Narcissa: "Here, drink this", he offered his glass of wine. She took a sloppy sip, spilling some down the front of her dress. "There, better? It may be possible for me to help Draco", Snape offered.

"Could you, would you? Oh, Severus... Would you look after him for me?"

"It is possible, yes. I can do my best to see no harm comes his way".

Narcissa flung the wine glass aside, and threw herself at Snape's feet: "Will you promise? If you were there to protect him... will you swear it?"

Snape's expression was as unreadable as that of any poker player holding the pure nuts. Bellatrix cackled in that same way she did as she sent her cousin through the Gate of Destiny, and for the same reason. "Haven't you been paying attention, Cissy? Of course he'll promise you _anything_, and then he'll find some excuse to make himself scarce the instant he's most needed... on the Dark Lord's orders, of course!"

"The Unbreakable Vow. Will you make the Unbreakable Vow?", Narcissa asked.

Bellatrix cackled again. She was certain she'd finally gotten the best of Snape. No way would he ever agree to that. Even the asking sounded like an insult.

"Certainly, Narcissa, I will make the Unbreakable Vow with you. Perhaps your sister would consent to be our Bonder?", he said quietly.

Bellatrix's jaw dropped, eyes widened in amazement. Snape kneeled opposite Narcissa, and took her right hand in his. Looking up: "You'll need your wand, Bella".

She took it out, as she continued looking on in astonishment.

"You'll need to come a little closer", Snape told her. She did as asked, coming close enough to stand over them, wand tip resting on their interlinked hands.

Narcissa spoke: "Will you, Severus Snape, look after Draco as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord's mission?"

"I will", he replied, as a thin tendril of golden light wound its way around their hands.

"Will you, to the best of your abilities, protect him from harm?"

"I will", another tendril of light appeared.

"And, should it prove necessary, if it looks like he will fail...", Snape's hand twitched involuntarily, but he didn't let go. "...will you carry out the Dark Lord's mission for Draco?"

This time, Snape delayed. The wand tip still in place, as Bellatrix awaited Snape's answer: "I will", he finally agreed. The third, and final, filament of light wound itself around their hands.

It was easy for Snape to do this. The Malfoys were old and dear friends. Draco Malfoy was one of the very few students Snape ever liked, as close to a teacher's pet as he ever had. He vowed nothing he hadn't already decided to do. If that's what it took to ensure that Narcissa Malfoy didn't do something stupid, then so be it.

_12 Grimmauld Place_

"Master Impmon", Kreacher said as he was arriving to change the sheets.

"Yes?"

"Master Impmon looks like an elf, and he doesn't wear clothes like an elf, but he is not?"

"No, Kreacher, I'm not an elf. I'm a digimon from the Digital World"

"Does Impmon serve his Master?"

"I have no master, Kreacher. Jadin is my partner. We digimon are free agents, and there is nothing like the binding enchantment that compels our loyalty. We remain free to do as we please".

"Then Master Impmon doesn't have to obey?"

"Not unless I want to. I could even leave Jadin if he didn't treat me right. However, he does, and that's why we're partners... What's this all about anyway?"

"Kreacher doesn't understand. Why does Master and the others treat Kreacher so differently?"

"Jadin and his parents have been dealing with strange creatures ever since I arrived and partnered. They see you more like another species of digimon, in other words".

Kreacher still doesn't understand".

"Kreacher should be happy he has Jadin and his parents as Kreacher's masters".

"Would it be different if Kreacher were in the Digital World?"

"There are no binding enchantments, or any other kind of magic, in the Digital World. We digimon got over enslaving others a long time ago. What're you driving at?"

"Nothing, Master Impmon. Kreacher just trying to understand".

"It would be for the best if Kreacher stopped trying to understand, and spent more time trying to be nicer. You might start by accepting Jadin's generous offer to stop sleeping in that shithole behind the cupboard".

"Kreacher isn't worthy..."

"Kreacher is worth how Kreacher values himself. Not anyone else. Capice?"

"Kreacher will think about it".

"You do that".

The front page of today's _Daily Prophet_ (Jadin received a copy via owlpost) displayed a photograph of a man with a lion-like mane, which vaguely reminded him of Leomon. For Jadin, the picture didn't look the least bit out of the ordinary, though to magicals it moved much like an animated GIF. Otherwise, he would have seen the man waving to an unseen audience.

The man's name was Rufus Scrimgeour, and the article said he had replaced Cornelius Fudge as the Minister of Magic. It was as he figured: Cornelius' obvious incompetence and malfeasance had turned a good proportion of the wizarding community against him. As his approval ratings dropped into low double digits he was persuaded to step aside. As promised, Dumbledore had nothing to do with this, had not spoken a negative word against Minister Fudge, did not replace him. The new Minister had been promoted from the Auror Office of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Think he'll be better?", Impmon asked.

"He's a politician, and there aren't that many Churchill's to go around, yannow. I don't see how he could possibly be worse".


	17. Jadin's Date

**17) Jadin's Date**

"Why is this even necessary?"

"Mom, I want to look nice when I take Hermione out".

"I understand that, but you already have perfectly good outfits".

"Muggle outfits, Mother. We're going to Hogsmeade, and as they say, when in Rome, yada, yada, yada. I'd rather not stick out like a sore thumb".

"I still don't know..."

"Don't know what? Magi..."

"Which you're not"

"...Travel like this all the time. It's probably safer than driving, or even walking. We're just gonna pop on over to Diagon Alley. It's not what it sounds like. Actually, it's an upscale shopping district. Nothing to worry about. We'll be back in a couple of hours or so, give or take".

Jadin laid a log on the grate: "Light 'er off".

Impmon flicked up a fireball and threw it into the fireplace. The log caught with a soft "whuff". Jadin took a pinch of the floo powder Sirius always kept in a tin above the mantle.

"Leaky Cauldron", he called out as he threw the powder into the flames, turning them emerald green.

Jadin and Impmon stepped into the flames and were sucked up the chimney.

The fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron suddenly erupted in green fire. The barkeep, and what few customers he still had, paid no attention.

The Leaky Cauldron was located in a rather dodgy neighborhood. That, the run-down appearance of a less than desirable ginmill, kept the muggles away. If that wasn't enough to do the job, there were muggle repelling charms to deter unwanted visitors. Upstairs, there were rooms to let for any magi having business here in London.

"'Noon", Jadin called to Old Tom, the barkeep.

He was wiping down glasses: "Goddamn Hewhomustnotbenamed keepin' my regulars away", he complained.

Jadin and Impmon headed towards the store room: "Could buy somethin', damn kids", he muttered.

"Shopping first, drinking later", Jadin called back.

Old Tom blushed slightly, as he hadn't intended to be overheard.

The old courtyard out back looked as though it had not been maintained in decades. It was completely overgrown with weeds and trees that had taken root over the years. Maybe a half-century ago – or even longer than that – people must have relaxed out here.

Jadin counted bricks along the wall at the far end of the courtyard. "Which one was it?", he asked himself.

He tapped one brick in particular with his honorary magi scroll. Nothing seemed to be happening at first. Then the brick wiggled just a bit. It wiggled a little more vigorously. Finally, bricks were flying, rearranging themselves into an arch, beyond which lay Diagon Alley.

The whole atmosphere of Dialog Alley was a good deal more subdued than he remembered from his first visit with McGonagall to pick up his supplies for Hogwart's. Storefronts bore, not the usual signs announcing specials and advertising, but rather the ugly purple Ministry posters. Some of which contained the same instructions as did that flier, others were wanted posters featuring Death Eaters at large. From one, Jadin instantly recognized the visage of Bellatrix Lestrange glowering down at him.

"Looks like some folks have split for the duration", Jadin said, as several shops were boarded up, their proprietors having decided to get out of London. He was disappointed to see that one was Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor: "Damn", he said.

The mood of the shoppers was as subdued as the atmosphere. They hardly paid Impmon any attention. He thought this odd, but was relieved he wasn't going to have to explain about him. Hawkers had set up stalls from which they peddled their dubious wares. He passed one:

**AMULETS**  
><strong>Guaranteed Effective against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi<strong>

The proprietor jingled silver symbols dangling from silver chains at him: "Some other time", Jadin said as he hurried his pace.

"Here we are, glad to see it's still open", Jadin said, as they came to Madam Malkin's.

"I'll hang out, maybe have a look around", Impmon offered, as the shop didn't look too large, and he wasn't interested in shopping for clothes anyway, as he had all the fashion accessories he needed.

"...not a child, in case you haven't noticed. I can do my own damn shopping", he heard as the bell tinkled as he opened the door.

Who he took for Madam Malkin made a clucking noise: "Your mother's right: no one should be out alone. Has nothing to do with being a child", she explained.

"Watch where you're sticking those pins!", this boy looked up, and Jadin instantly recognized Draco Malfoy. He didn't expect it, but Draco just looked at him, saying nothing. The expected nasty comment, the name-calling, didn't happen. He turned back to Madam Malkin. What was that expression? Preoccupied, certainly, but - maybe it was just his imagination - there seemed to be something else.

"I think this left sleeve could come up a bit more", Malkin commented.

"Dammit! Woman: be more careful where you're sticking your pins! We should have gone to Twilfitt and Tattings". He turned to his mother: "I don't think I want this any longer", as he pulled off the robe he was being fitted for, dropped in on the floor, and stalked out.

"Well! I never...", Malkin complained.

"I beg his pardon", Narcissa said, "Teen aged boys, yannow", as she looked to Jadin for confirmation. He smiled and nodded in agreement. She followed Draco out of the shop. Madam Malkin took a few seconds to compose herself, as she gathered the robe Draco had discarded.

"What can I do for you?", she asked as if nothing had happened.

"Looking for a dress robe", he explained. "Have a date coming up, and..."

"You want to look nice for your girlfriend", she completed the thought for him.

"Precisely. Maybe you know her? Hermione Granger?"

"Yes, of course! I've been doing her school robes ever since she started Hogwart's. I'll fix you up with something extra special".

"Hell's he up to?", Impmon asked himself. He'd seen Draco come storming out of the shop, followed by Narcissa Malfoy, but by then, Draco had given her the slip. Narcissa was looking around, but Impmon said nothing, though he knew in what direction to point her.

Impmon crossed the street, disappeared behind another shop, and pulled off his red gauntlets to expose razor sharp talons tipping each of three fingers. He quickly and easily climbed the side of the building to the roof. From there, he easily spotted Draco Malfoy. Impmon were quick and agile digimon, so he had no problems following him, unseen, by leaping from one rooftop to the next. He moved silently, crossing over to an adjacent street he would later learn was Knockturn Alley. Like Diagon Alley, a shopping district. Unlike Diagon Alley, these shops specialized in products and services a good deal less wholesome: the Dark Arts.

Draco disappeared into the worst of these shops; Impmon perched himself on the sign over the door: Borgin and Burkes.

"Can you fix it?", Draco asked Caractacus Burke. Impmon had no idea as to what "it" was. His sensitive digimon hearing allowed him to hear every word.

"I don't see why... that would cost more than what it's worth. I could acquire one in good condition for you..."

"I told you, I need _this_ one! I need it in good working order: money is no object. Can you fix it, or have it fixed?"

"What you're asking is highly unusual, they were never intended for such a purpose. I'm not so confident..."

"No? Perhaps _this_ will make you more confident. Tell anyone and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? Well, he's an old friend of the family. He'll be stopping by from time to time to see what progress you're making".

"I assure you: there won't be any need for that", Borgin reassured.

"I'll decide that!", Draco commanded him. "I have to be off, and don't forget to keep it safe. I'll be needing it".

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"

"Yeah, riiiiight, you stupid old man! How would that look? Me dragging it through the streets. Just do as I say, keep it safe, get it working, and _don't_ get greedy and attempt to sell it. Or there'll be hell to pay".

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy".

By the time Draco stepped outside, Impmon was long gone.

Impmon was waiting as Jadin left Madam Malkin's. He'd tell him all about what he'd learned later: "So now what?", he asked.

"Since we're here, I thought we could drop in on Fred and George's shop: see how they're doing".

They went farther down the main street, but it wasn't necessary to check addresses. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes would have stood out even during more normal times. In contrast to the subdued looks of the rest of the store fronts, windows covered by the dull Ministry warning and wanted posters, the windows to the left of the main entrance were filled with all sorts of gew-gaws that spun, twittered, jumped, popped, and flashed. "More lit up than a Vegas whore house", Jadin told Impmon.

The windows to the right were covered with a poster the same purple as the official Ministry posters, but this one flashed in yellow letters:

**Worried About You-Know-Who?  
>You Should Be Worried About<br>U-NO-POO!  
>The Constipation Sensation<br>That's Sweeping The Nation!**

This shop was, by far, the most crowded: "Looks like they're raking it in hand over fist", Impmon commented.

"Sure does", Jadin agreed.

The Skiving Snackboxes they'd heard about were brisk sellers, and Nosebleed Nougat was by far the most popular item. Jadin wondered how long that would go on before the adults wised up? There were bins of trick wands, the least expensive simply turned into rubber chickens if one attempted to cast a spell. The deluxe versions would actually beat the unwary user over the head.

There were a variety of quills: self inking, spell-checking, and the smart-answer quills designed for cheating on tests and exams.

Patented Daydream Charms: "One simple incantation and you'll enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream. Easy to fit into the average school schedule, virtually undetectable for whiling away those boring lectures. Side effects may include vacant stares and possible drooling". Jadin wondered why anyone would need something like that, not the way he daydreamed.

Next, there was a gaggle of kids who looked like fourth and fifth graders standing around something; he went to investigate. A tiny wooden man was climbing the stairs leading to a miniature gallows: "Reusable Hangman: Spell it correctly or he swings!". Neither Jadin nor Impmon were impressed by this: video games were better these days. Jadin made a mental note to introduce Fred and George to "Digital Monsters".

"Jadin! Impmon!", they'd been noticed.

"Hey Fred, looks like you're doing great", Jadin complimented.

"Ironic, isn't it? Umbridge never knew how big a favour she did us when she drove us from Hogwart's. You should'a been there. We really went out in style. Gave everyone a preview of our fireworks right when everyone was taking their OWLs, made a swamp on the third floor.

"Flitwick said there was nothing he could do to completely remove it, but that's not true. Even the faculty hated that old cunt with a purple passion. I suppose Flitwick decided to leave a bit of the swamp there, with a guard rail around it, as a kind of memorial to us.

"That reminds me... what happened to you two anyway?"

"The Professor sent us away just before the aurors came to arrest Dumbledore. We're not supposed to say where we're staying, but I don't think it'll be a problem: we're living in Sirius' old house now".

"So that's where you got to".

"Where's George?"

"He's in the stock room; he'll be out directly. So... what brings you to Diagon Alley?".

"Picking up a dress robe. I'm taking Hermione to Hogsmeade next weekend".

"No shit? You lucky dog. Ron would _kill _for a date with Hermione".

It dawned on Fred: "Ummm... _how_ did you get here?", he asked.

"The Professor arranged it: we can do some simple magic. Arranged it with Fudge, you know, _that_ night".

"Yeah", he said, "I'll never forget that night".

"George! See who dropped in", Fred called out.

"Impmon? Jadin? I never expected to see you here", he said, perplexed.

"I guess you don't get a whole lot of muggle trade", Impmon replied.

"There's something I was meaning to ask: you hear from Harry lately?", Jadin asked.

"Not lately, he's stuck back with the Dursley's for the duration. I don't expect we'll be hearing from Harry until his B-day. He'll be seventeen, and of age. That's when his mother's protection drops. Then he won't have to stay there".

"I hope he's practicing".

"He said he would. "

"That's good to know".

The entrepreneur came out: "Now that I've got you here, I can't let you go until you buy something. Skiving Snackboxes, maybe? Or how about some of our special quills?"

"Wouldn't so me much good. We don't use quills in muggle high school make-up classes. Even if they'd work, that is".

"There's _one_ thing that will: muggle card and magic tricks".

"You sell regular card tricks? With all the other things? Who'd buy them?"

"You'd be surprised. Lots of wizards are fascinated by the tricks muggles come up with to appear magical. Like Dad, he loves 'em. So how about it? You just have to buy something!"

Jadin didn't get out of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes cost free.

Upon returning the same way they'd come: "I think Malfoy's up to something", Impmon announced. He quoted back the entire conversation he'd overheard at Borgin and Burkes word-for-word. "He's up to no good, always scheming, that one".

"Not sure what that's all about, or what we can do about it".

"Maybe mention it at the next meeting of the Order? I don't know what else we can do".

"Oh well, best be gettin' back"

"Two Butterbeers, large", Jadin ordered back at the Leaky Cauldron.

Old Tom eyed Impmon the whole time he drew the beers.

"Don't see folks out with their house elves". Impmon knew it best not to contradict him, best not to give themselves away.

"We're not supposed to be going out alone", Jadin told him.

"Yeah, that's what the Minister said. Helluvalot of good that'll do, especially for folks who don't have house elves, or have to go somewhere when friends and family aren't available. Damn fool Fudge... Why are you buying butterbeer for your elf anyway?"

"We don't believe in using binding enchantments. I gave him those fashion accessories, to break the enchantment. He serves willingly".

"That's right. You'd be better off treating others like how you'd like to be treated. Then you wouldn't have to worry so much about Dark Lords".

"You're probably right, but what're you gonna do?"

_Jadin's Summer School_

These classes were condensed and accelerated, and didn't leave much leeway for not studying every day. That wasn't a hardship, seeing that 12 Grimmauld Place was lacking in distractions.

He'd just sat down with his cafeteria lunch when he thought he spotted something odd. This girl with dark hair and large, frameless glasses was taking bits off her tray and discreetly slipping them under the table, then coming up empty. This went on repeatedly, and it looked a lot like she was feeding something under the table.

He was determined to catch up with her after class, and see if his suspicions were correct: that she had a digimon.

After classes, he did just that.

"Hey you, with the glasses!", he called out and grabbed her arm from behind.

"_Who'reyouwhatdoyouwant_?!"

He palmed his digivice: "Look familiar?", he asked quietly. It was obvious she recognized it.

"Over here", the strange girl said, as she sought privacy.

"Oh, by the way, the name's Jadin... Jadin Weston".

"Yvonne Innis", she introduced.

"I didn't know that you Yanks... had partners too?" They hid in a side doorway, away from view.

"My dad got a promotion, and a transfer came with it", he explained. "Back home, we called ourselves the Digimon Mentors".

Now that the secret was out, Yvonne unslung the backpack and opened it. Inside, a ball of light pink feathers looked out: "Poromon", she introduced. "Who's your partner?"

"Impmon's my partner".

"More digimon?", Poromon asked. "Can you bring him?"

"Impmon won't be going back to Yaamon any time soon, I'm afraid".

"I don't know what else to do. I keep mine hidden in his In-training form, though he doesn't really like it".

"So you haven't told anyone?"

"I don't see how... I didn't think there was anyone else?"

"So I guess your folks don't know?"

"Do yours?"

"Told 'em right off. Of course, it's really hard to explain otherwise when he materialized right in my room, when they were home. Maybe you should give 'em a chance?"

"I was planning to tell, but not sure when, or how..."

"See? I told you should tell, didn't I?", Poromon added. "He even partnered with a Virus".

"I was playing 'Digital Monsters', the video game, and said something about wanting this to be real", Yvonne explained. That's when the whole game just locked up. After that, I found this blue coloured card that I was sure wasn't part of the game. I ran it through the game's card reader. Next thing I knew, the card reader had transformed itself into a digivice. There was a message on the screen: 'Request granted'. Then the digivice beeped, and this compass sort of thing appeared. I followed it to some vacant parking lot when Hawkmon appeared out of this thick mist. He said we were now partners..."

"So that's where you disappeared to? If you're even thinking of double-timin' me..."

"Oh, hey, Tonks", Jadin called back. "Have you met Yvonne?"

"Can't say I have, and you'd best come along".

"See ya around?", Jadin asked Yvonne.

"If you think you can get away..."

"Don't mind my sister here..."

"What do you think you're doing?", Tonks reprimanded. "Your _sister_?!"

"What the hell else was I supposed to say? Just checking something out... Yvonne has a partner..."

"What did Mad Eye say about that? You're not supposed to know about other Mentors..."

"I can't ignore one right under my nose. He said not to contact a whole bunch anyway. Besides, nothing's gonna happen, and even if it does, members of the Order are here".

"Did you tell her about the Order? It's not up to you to be bringing in new members!"

"No, I didn't tell her, and I know that. Although I still question the whole idea, but I didn't tell".

"See that you don't, and no more contacting Mentors".

"I may not be able to avoid it as I don't know there won't be others. Two in the same school, what're the odds?"

"Start taking orders more seriously. It's hard enough protecting you, we don't need anyone else involved".

_Hogsmeade: Three Broomsticks_

"Jadin!", Hermione called out as he stepped from the fireplace in a whirl of emerald flame. "You're looking good". They gave each other a welcome kiss and hug.

"Wanted to fit in better; when in Rome, yada, yada, yada", he explained, "Did some shopping at Madam Malkin's".

"Where's Impmon?"

"He's back at home. He understands, though I did promise to bring him some goodies. I also dropped in on some friends of yours: Fred and George".

"How're they doin'?"

"From what I saw, very good indeed. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was the busiest shop in Diagon Alley".

Jadin looked around, and noticed the same somber mood prevailing here. The Three Broomsticks wasn't nearly as busy as he'd expected, based on what Hermione had told him of the place: the Three Broomsticks was the respectable saloon, and quite popular as a watering hole for Hogswart's students.

Hermione waved to the gamekeeper, Hagrid, who'd stopped by, taking a break from his duties. "You remember Jadin?"

"Aye", the gamekeeper replied.

"I really liked your class most of all", Jadin told him. "Impmon too"

"Thanky fer sain so". Hagrid took a deep drink from the oversized tankard. "Impmon wuh a big hepp".

"I'll be sure and tell him you said so".

Jadin and Hermione settled at a table, and ordered two butterbeers.

"So how's your summer so far?", Hermione asked.

"Doing muggle make-up work. Not quite as fun as Arithmancy or Care of Magical Critters, but I'm doin' OK, so far. Quite a bit of studying involved, as the pace is a good deal quicker. How about your summer?"

"Same here: I home school in muggle subjects. Though, things aren't quite so lively: everyone's worried about..."

"Yeah, I noticed the same thing in Diagon Alley. Didn't look like many folks were out and about, hell, they barely noticed Impmon. I thought we'd be explaining constantly... Guess you'll be going back to Hogwart's?".

"We'll be going to complete the more advanced work for our NEWTs"

"Too bad I won't be joining you this time. Be back in regular high school".

"There are still the Hogsmeade weekends. You could visit then".

"I'll do that for sure".

Outside, it was the same: those ugly posters and wanted signs. Zonko's Joke Shop was closed for the duration, windows covered with plywood sheeting. The locals seemed to be going out in groups, neither visitors nor locals paying Jadin and Hermione much attention. Strangers were to be avoided, lest they turn out to be Death Eaters. Very little stopping to chat in the streets, as people seemed eager to get their business completed to return to the safety of their security-charmed homes. This definitely wasn't the same Hogsmeade he'd seen before, back when everyone still believed Harry and Dumbledore were exaggerating, or making stuff up. The reality that Voldemort was no longer deniable, and these folks were worried.

Honeydukes was still open for business, so that Jadin could pick up some sugar quills for himself, and Chocolate Cauldrons and Every Flavour Beans for Impmon.

"I wish it were under better circumstances", Hermione apologized, as if she'd read Jadin's thoughts.

"Times can't remain tough forever. Although there are some advantages".

"How so?"

"We wouldn't've met in more normal times".

"That's true.".

"I don't mind, and I can understand why everyone's so edgy lately. Can't say I blame 'em for that. Of course, we muggles have one dubious advantage: we have no idea as to what's coming, and, as they say, ignorance is bliss... Except for the Dementors, that is".

They did get to have Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop all to themselves. "It's good to see young love in such troubling times". Madam Puddifoot greeted. It was nice to have that privacy, to kiss and not worry who might tell.

"They can't last forever", Jadin replied. "We're not giving up just yet".

"So you really believe we have a future?", Hermione asked.

"Don't you? We're both in the loop, so to speak. I'm not supposed to mention it, but I have good reason to believe we have more allies against you-know-who waiting in the wings. I found another Mentor, attending summer school with me. There are more out there, I'm sure of it. You, Harry, and the Professor have your plans, and I have mine. You aren't as alone as you think, but let's keep that our little secret".

"Speaking of secrets, last I heard from Harry, they're gonna be working on something".

"Yeah: no guarantees, but you still keep the faith, right?"

"Sometimes, it's not so easy. Especially when you're so involved with the Wizarding World, not an outsider..."

"I'm not exactly an outsider..."

"Yes, and no. I've been involved all my life, and I hear things you don't. People in our community are worried, and they're discouraged. Don't forget: they were there the last time Youknowwho went on a rampage. They figured he was gone for good, and yet, it's starting all over again. The muggles never knew, and they still don't understand what's happening to them this time".

"Yeah, Sirius once told me something very similar... Enough of that, you really should see if your folks and mine can get together. Just have 'em pop on over..."

"I think you're forgetting something: they can't pop anywhere".

"Yeah, I did."

"Just don't get too used to it".

"I already know it can't last forever..."

"Regardless, I won't let that happen".

"Well, there is one thing I can do about it".

"Oh?"

He took out his digivice, and brought up the holographic screen.

"What're you doin'?", Hermione asked.

"Just a little program. No one needs to know about this. See? Every week it'll ask: 'Do you remember entering me?' If they pull some shit, I'll know something's happened... I don't suppose I'd ever discover your little secret?"

"Not necessarily. Where do you think half-bloods come from? The Ministry can't tell me who to see, and who not to. If you lose your memories, it'll be like meeting for the first time all over again. We can tell husbands and wives and not be in violation of the Secrecy Law. The only restriction is you won't be able to tell others, that's all".

"I can do that, not a prob".

"So what are your plans? I mean, once your Dad's assignment is up?"

"I hadn't really given it much thought. I don't suppose there'd be any problem continuing my education here. Or you could always come to America? Or both? How about you?"

"I always figured it was all worked out, I still have NEWT level work at Hogwart's, then I figured on doing something inside the Ministry, pursue my work with S, P, E, W – trying to make a difference for all our non-humans. I'm like you, I guess, really haven't given it much thought. Too much living in the here and now".

_Hogwart's: Dumbledore's Offices_

Albus Dumbledore looked with satisfaction at the small golden box sitting before him. His extensive research into the past of one former student, Rom Riddle, had paid off. He suspected more horcruxes, and now he knew. This one he recovered after checking the memories he collected from a now elderly, and quite insane, Morfin Gaunt who'd just recently passed away while doing a life term in Azkaban.

Other than the daughter, Tom's mother, the whole family had been crazy. It was the unfortunate Morfin who had been set up, framed, for the murders of the elder Tom Riddle, and the rest of Voldemort's muggle relations.

Voldemort held his father, the scion of the richest family in Little Hangleton responsible for his mother's death, the loss of a family heirloom he considered his own, and the recovery of which required the demise of Hepsipah Smith. A desperate Merope, pregnant and abandoned in London, had sold the precious heirloom for a pittance out of pure desperation. Why she would do that, instead of using her magic, he could not figure out. Maybe it had failed her in her depression over losing the husband she believed loved her?

Setting up the insane Morfin wasn't all that difficult: a memory altering charm was all it took to make him believe he had actually done the deed. As both father and son had had run-ins with the muggle cirizenry, and Ministry officials, no one bothered to inquire too deeply into the case.

It was under the floor boards of the now deserted wreck of Gaunt's cottage where Albus discovered the remnants of magic, the protective charms that would deter any curious muggles from exploring the wreck which led him to the hiding place.

As Albus lifted the lid, he smiled to himself at the gold ring inset with a black stone. First, Marvolo Gaunt wore this ring, then a young student of many years ago. As for Marvolo, he was too arrogant to part with these heirlooms, the ring and the locket, to use them to improve his family's condition. Unfortunately for Marvolo, his family has squandered the wealth several generations before his birth. As they prided themselves on their blood purity, they tended to marry cousins with disastrous consequences for future generations.

There was something about that stone...

As soon as he slipped the ring on his ring finger, did he realize he'd made a very foolish mistake. His ring finger burned as if the ring itself was red hot. Too late did he pull it off, smash the ring with Gryffindor's Sword.

"Severus! I need you!", he sent his patronus.

_King's Cross_

"Off for another year", Jadin commented to Hermione as the students awaited the departure of the Express.

"Awwww... look at the love birds".

"S'up Weasel King", Jadin greeted the arrival of Ron.

"I didn't like it when those Slytherins called me that, and it doesn't sound any better coming from a Ravenclaw..."

"Overlook it, and I'll over look the 'love birds' crack"

"Fair enough. Be sure to do well in muggle school", Ron reminded. "You wouldn't want to get yourself grounded or something".

"No, definitely not", Jadin agreed. "Too bad, actually, I'd like to attend, but now that we have Sirius' old place to ourselves, it's just not gonna happen".

"Especially since there's a Hogsmeade outing in October", Hermione told him.

"I haven't forgotten. Be looking forward to it. Such a long time..."

"I'll be glad to get back", Harry announced.

"I bet you're the only kid in the UK who'd say that about another school year", Jadin told him.

"Hogwart's is my real home", Harry said. "I just stay with the Dursley's; I can't say I ever really lived there".

"So, anyway, what'll you be doing now that you're past the OWLs?"

"Professor McGonagall is working on getting me into the Auror Program, but I really don't know... Professor Snape doesn't accept anyone with less than an 'E' for his NEWT level Potions classes. I really don't see how she can pull that one off. Even if she doesn't, the Professor said he'll be giving me private lessons".

"There's always hopin'. You never know, it just might happen. Sounds interesting".

"He wasn't very long on details, so I'll see later".


	18. More About the Dark Lord

**18) More About the Dark Lord**

_Hogwart's: Dumbledore's Offices_

"You wanted to see me, Professor?", Harry asked. "That hand: it doesn't seem to be getting better".

"This?", Dumbledore replied, as he held up the hand with blackening fingers, "it's nothing, just a fair price to pay for the obliteration of one of Voldemort's horcruxes. It needn't concern you".

"If you're sure..."

"Indeed, I am... There's something you need to see", as he pointed out the pensieve. "A memory I extracted from an elderly house elf named Hokey. She was long in the service of her mistress, one Hepzipah Smith, of an old Wizarding family. I don't expect you would have heard of her?"

"Not that I recall, right off", Harry agreed.

"Shall we?", Dumbledore invited.

They found themselves in a well appointed sitting room.

"What brings you here?", the older woman asked her younger male visitor. "Trying to wheedle me out of more antiques for Caractacus?"

"My dear Lady, that is not my intention at all", he replied. He was dressed like a muggle businessman, in a three piece suit. He was tall, slender, and quite handsome before he turned his eyes all reptilian, his face snake-like. He also closely resembled his muggle father. "My life doesn't revolve around Borgin and Burkes. This is purely a social call", he reassured her. "No shop-talk today".

"Why would a nice young man be wasting his time with a broken down old witch like me?"

"I'd hardly call you 'broken down'", he explained. "You have some fascinating tales to tell of times gone by. I do value you for more than your trinkets. Though I can't say the same for my boss".

"Caractacus is always begging me to sell him more of my prised possessions. Such a pirate, trying to get the most for the least. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind. Better he have them than my so-called relatives".

"I didn't know..."

"Never mind. Those bastards are all just waiting for me to kick off. You would think they could at least drop in to visit an old lady before that happens. But, no, they're all too wrapped up in their own affairs".

"I'm sorry to hear that. I believe family is very important, but I guess that comes from not really having a family... my mother died during child birth, and I had no other relatives. It's all too easy to take it for granted, to think the ones closest to you will always be there".

"Oh, I'm so sorry..."

"No need to apologize; enough about me".

"Would you like some tea and cakes?", she said to change the subject.

"Please, that would be nice".

"Hokey!", she called out.

"Yes, Mistress".

"Would you fetch some tea and cakes for our guest?"

"Right away, Mistress".

"Hokey and I have been together for years now. I really don't know what I'd do without her".

"She's good company?"

"Oh my yes".

Hokey shambled into the room so packed with brick-a-brack that the tea tray seemed to be floating unassisted. This was working out splendidly: the young Tom Riddle playing the role of suitor, not buyer for Borgin and Burkes.

After having tea and cakes, the older woman leaned towards, saying in a conspiratorial tone: "Would you like to see some of my special items? Promise you won't tell Caractacus what I'm about to show you. You're one of the few people I know who can really appreciate antiques for more than monetary value".

"He'll never hear it from me", Riddle promised.

"Hokey, would you bring up the two boxes from my special vault?"

"If you're sure..."

"We can trust young Mr. Riddle", Smith reassured.

"Right away".

Hokey returned with two ornate display cases, one of red leather, the other black. She handed over the red box.

"Have a look", Hepzipah encouraged.

He lifted the lid, and inside, resting on dark blue velvet was what looked like a miniature NASCAR trophy.

"Go on, pick it up", she encouraged.

The gold cup had a life-like badger engraved on it in fine detail.

"Is this...", he began.

"Indeed it is: the cup of Helga Hufflepuff herself. I am a distant relative of her family, and that cup has passed down from Helga herself, through the generations, until it passed to me. Now do you see why I don't want Caractacus to know? He would _never_ stop pestering me! It does pain me to know my relatives will probably inherit it, then sell it off. He'll get his hands on it soon enough, but not while I have anything to say about it".

"It really is an exquisite piece", Riddle agreed. "Perhaps there's another solution? Why not will it to Hogwart's? Could there be a more fitting alternative than to give it up to the unappreciative?"

"An excellent suggestion, young man. I like how you think, and I have considered it".

He returned the cup to its resting place, and handed it over to the older lady.

"This one, Caractacus already knows about", as she handed him the black leather case.

Inside, he instantly recognized his mother's heirloom.

"I paid Caractacus a considerable sum for that piece. He wasn't willing to explain how he happened to come by..."

"Slytherin's Locket", he completed that thought.

"You do know your antiques", she agreed. "No one has seen it except for portraits of Salazar Slytherin as he wore it. How he came into possession I do not know, and he refused to say. Maybe you could ask him? I'd really like to know".

"May I?", Riddle asked, trying mightily to conceal from his voice what he was feeling and thinking.

"Go right ahead", she invited.

As he picked up the locket, Harry thought he saw a glint of red in Riddle's eyes. Was that just imagination, considering he knew what Riddle would turn into.

"It's been authenticated?", he asked, though he didn't need to ask.

"Oh my yes", she agreed. "I wouldn't pay that old pirate what he was asking without verifying first. Not that I'm accusing him..."

"I didn't think you were", Riddle told her. "It's just that I've seen counterfeits of memorabilia from the founders of Hogwart's".

"It's just that I had to have it, to keep Hufflepuff's Cup company. I'm sure he'd like to have it back so's he can sell it again to an even higher bidder".

"That sounds like Caractacus all right", he agreed. "Thank you for sharing your special items with me", he said as he placed Slytherin's Locket in its case.

"Return these", Hepzipah requested of Hokey.

"I think that's sufficient", Dumbledore announced as they left the memory. He explained: "Two days later, Hepzipah Smith was found dead in her sitting room. Hokey had accidentally confused potassium cyanide for sugar as she prepared her mistress' hot cocoa she always had before retiring.

"Hokey wasn't accused of deliberate murder. She readily confessed her 'error' (finger quotes) and felt great remorse for this incident for which she felt responsible. However, being a house elf, she was sent to Azkaban for life. Neither Slytherin's Locket nor Hufflepuff's Cup were among the possessions the relatives divided among themselves. She never told them she had the locket, and a small gold cup that went missing would hardly be noticed.

"Needless to say, Riddle didn't show up for work the next day. Indeed, he dropped completely out of sight for the next ten years. Hokey's memories were falsified, and she had nothing to do with it. Fortunately, I was able to convince the Wizengamot of the truth of Hokey's innocence and secured her release. It came as a great relief to the old house elf, and she passed away at peace a few weeks later".

"So did Riddle ever show up again?", Harry asked.

"Oh my yes, he did. This next memory is my own", Dumbledore said as he prepared the pensieve. "Shall we?"

This next memory showed a younger Dumbledore sitting at the familiar desk in the familiar office. Where Harry usually sat, there was an older Riddle. It wasn't just that he'd gained ten years that made him look different. He was beginning his transformation, with human eyes, though permanently red.

"So what brings you back to Hogwart's, Tom?", Dumbledore asked.

"You used to call me that back when I was a student. These days, I'm known as..."

"I'm well aware of what you call yourself. You'll just have to have some patience for an old headmaster and his habits".

"After I took my OWLs, I said that I thought I could be a good Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. You asked me yourself, if you'll recall, what I wanted to do after graduation".

"I recall quite well, Tom. I encouraged you to take your NEWT level studies. The Ministry was making quite a few offers for a position, even promising to cover the cost. Instead, you turned down every offer to take that job with Borgin and Burkes. Now, after all these years, you decide you want to teach?"

"What can I say? I was young, eager, and the job I was offered paid quite handsomely if I made my commissions. I had a natural talent for that, convincing people to sell us their antiques. Now, I believe I'd like to give back to the school that gave me so much by helping to shape young lives".

"That's what concerns me, Tom, exactly how would you shape those young lives? Given your recent reputation, I'm sure you can appreciate my dilemma here?"

"Stuff and nonsense. Surely you – of all people – would understand how rumours spread, how everything gets exaggerated".

"That's all very true, but if that's the case, then why have you brought with you a veritable army that's taken over every lodging in Hogsmeade?"

"I can't help the dedication of my most devoted followers. They came because they wanted to; I didn't invite them".

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe. You always bring an entourage with you to every job interview?"

"Are you saying that I'm unqualified? On what basis, may I ask?"

"I don't doubt your expertise when it comes to magic. You were an outstanding pupil, and a wizard of such talent I have seldom seen in all my years at Hogwart's. The question is how you choose to use those considerable talents that concerns me".

"So you're saying you won't even give me a chance?"

"Tom, I already have a Defense professor, and am not looking to replace him just yet. If you would change your dubious ways, then I might reconsider".

"I see... then I suppose we have nothing more to discuss?"

"No, Tom, we don't".

"Very well, I'll show myself out, you needn't bother. I'll just leave with one last thought. You will come to regret this decision".

"It wouldn't be the first time".

"He came looking for a job?", Harry asked. "What was he up to?"

"You can be sure it wasn't just a professorship. No, Harry, I do believe he wanted to be close to artifacts he wanted to acquire. While he was a student, he prided himself on his ability to discover the secrets of the castle. Secrets and artifacts were his interests, and bending impressionable students to his will. Where Voldemort is concerned, you can be sure there's more under the surface. Needless to say, I had no intentions of ever giving him free reign of Hogwart's".

"What do you suppose he was doing?"

"Before I answer that, I have one final memory I'd like to show you".

This time, it was obviously a memory from a good many years previous. Harry was watching as a middle aged Albus Dumbledore was approaching the entrance of an orphanage. He was wearing muggle attire, a suit, though out of fashion. He still sported a long beard, but now it was still black though streaked with the silver it would become today.

"Albus Dumbledore to see the director. I have an appointment".

The receptionist checked her schedule: "I'll let him know you're here".

A few minutes later, the reply came over the intercom: "He'll see you now".

"Thank you", Dumbledore replied.

"I understand this involves one of our charges?", the director asked.

"Indeed it does. I am Albus Dumbledore, and I work for an academy for gifted and unusual children. I am here to offer Thomas Riddle the opportunity to attend our school to further his education".

"Why would you do that? How did Tom come to your attention?"

"We've been keeping an eye on young Mr. Riddle for some time now. That's not important, wouldn't you agree that education is important?"

"Indeed I do. It's not easy, trying to raise these kids without parents, and we're not adequate substitutes. I do worry about what is to become of our kids once they're too old for the orphanage. I'd like to think we give them a chance to make it in life. Why so mysterious? You can see how this is something to be concerned about? Out of the blue, I received your letter".

Harry saw a slight motion, and knew Dumbledore cast a silent Confundus. How else would he get this muggle's co-operation from some guy off the street telling a wild tale like that? How was he to know this wasn't some perv?

"I should like to review Tom's records before I interview him".

The director asked over the intercom for the records. The receptionist/secretary brought a thick folder.

Most of the details were already known: the appearance of the new born after the mother's death in child birth, the request that the child be named Thomas Marvolo Riddle, the compliance of the orphanage with that request.

"It would seem that Mr. Riddle has a somewhat checkered reputation".

"There have been... incidents", the Director agreed. "One child's pet rabbit was found hanging by the neck from a rafter, and Tom was implicated. But it was not possible for him to have gotten all the way up there, so how could he do it? There was no evidence, let alone a possibility, so he wasn't disciplined for that. He's been accused of other things, but never enough evidence..."

"About this incident with the snake..."

"We take the kids for regular outings, and we were visiting the zoo. There was a python behind a glass display. For some reason, the glass broke, and the snake got out. Frightening, it was. Kids running everywhere, except for Tom. He just stood there, eye-to-eye with that snake as the staff panicked, but he didn't listen. Damnedest thing: some kids accused him of breaking the glass, but my escort swore he was ten feet away at the time. Just one more incident that seems to occur whenever he's around. The other children avoid him... It's unfortunate".

"That's why I'm here: to offer him the chance to come to a special place for special children like him. May I see him in private?"

"Yes, I'll escort you to his room"

"Do you really think you can do something for him?", the Director asked as they made their way to the living quarters.

"I do believe we can", Dumbledore reassured.

"Anyway, this is it", as he opened the door. "Tom, you have a visitor", the Director told the eleven year old as he sat doing nothing on his bed. "Let me know if you need anything", he said to Dumbledore.

"Hello Tom", Dumbledore said as he closed the door behind him.

"Who're you, Old Dude?", the boy asked with a surly edge.

"The first thing you need to work on is respect for your elders. From now on, you will call me 'Mr. Dumbledore' or 'Sir', is that understood?"

"Yes... sir... You still haven't answered my question".

"I came to see you today to invite you to attend a very special school for boys and girls who're just like you. We've been keeping an eye on you ever since you were born. You can do things the other children can't, isn't that true?"

"I... can talk to snakes", he admitted. "The first time, a garter snake I found in the garden. I just knew... somehow".

"The snake at the zoo?"

"Him too. He wanted out of that cramped glass case: I heard him say so. I just wanted the glass to break, and it did. He was happy to be out for a change. The others... they just didn't understand. Fools, one and all".

"There are other things too?", Dumbledore prompted.

"I can hurt people who piss me off".

"I see. Do you know why you can do such things?"

"I don't care so long as they don't fuck with me".

"Well, Tom, I happen to know. It's magic..."

"Look, Ol... errrr... Sir, don't try to con me. There's no such thing..."

With that, Dumbledore whipped out his wand and set Tom's wardrobe ablaze. The boy didn't know whether to run, scream, or what. Another wave of his wand, and the fire was gone without a trace.

"Magic is very real, Tom. And you are not alone in possessing these abilities. My school specializes in teaching young magi their craft".

"You mean, I can do things like that?"

"Oh yes, Tom, that and much more. However, that will be up to you. It's always your decision, whether to attend Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. No one will force you".

"If I do, there won't be any more orphanage?"

"No, Tom, there won't. Hogwart's is also a boarding school with nice dorms, good food, and good company".

"Who's gonna pay for that?", Riddle asked, suspiciously.

"Then I take it you're interested?"

"Get out of this shithole? Hell to the yes!"

"Hogwart's has scholarship programs for deserving students, so there will be no problems with payment".

The wardrobe began to shake and vibrate.

"There seems to be something in your wardrobe that wants out", Dumbledore said.

Way in the back, well hidden, Riddle pulled out a cigar box from a carefully concealed corner. The box was jumping around, but stopped as soon as he picked it up.

"Bring it here", Dumbledore asked.

"Open it", he ordered.

Tom spread out the contents: a pen knife, a pin of some sort, a pack of half used chewing gum, some candy, a PaperMate pen.

"None of these items belong to you, do they?", Dumbledore asked.

"No, sir", he admitted the truth.

"Before you come to Hogwart's, you will return everything to their rightful owners with a sincere apology. Stealing from other students is not tolerated at Hogwart's", Dumbledore informed him.

"I'll see to it", Riddle promised.

"See that you do. In a few days, a colleague of mine, Miss Minerva McGonagall will escort you to Diagon Alley where you can pick up the supplies you will need, and see you to the Hogwart's Express for transportation to school".

"Sir, if I may, could I do this for myself?"

"That's most unusual. And I normally wouldn't agree, but if you're sure?"

"Sir: I am".

"Very well, here's a list of everything you will need, directions to Diagon Alley, and to the station from which the Express leaves. I'll see you in a few days".

This was the end of that memory: "Then he did it?", Harry asked.

"Yes, he did. Leaving this responsibility up to an eleven year old is unusual, but Tom was an unusual First Year. You see, Harry, Riddle took to Hogwart's right off. It was the only real home he'd ever known. As Voldemort, that has remained, and in his own twisted way, he maintains his fondness for the school.

"Voldemort believes that the only objects worthy of holding the pieces of his shattered soul are artifacts from Hogwart's founders. The locket and the cup were turned into horcruxes, of that I am certain. The only question remaining is how he learned of this".

"Then how does the diary fit in? It was just a common diary, wasn't it? Why would he use such high profile items and not just some random old junk? Does it matter what you make a horcrux of?"

"Not really, but he's arrogant to the N-th degree, and nothing less is worthy of becoming a horcrux as far as he's concerned. As for the diary, it doesn't seem to fit the pattern, but I later realized that it didn't need to. He gave it to Lucius, probably with instructions as to when to pass it along to a current Hogwart's student.

"However, it was into that diary that the young Hogwart's student made his most intimate confessions, and shared his most private thoughts. In that sense, making it into a horcrux does fit that pattern. I also believe he intended it to be expendable. It was that realization that led me to conclude he'd made multiple horcruxes, and wasn't concerned with the loss of just that one".

"Then how many? What?"

"I already know about Slytherin's Locket and Hufflepuff's Cup. I believe he wanted to be close to Hogwart's to steal something from Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw to complete his collection. There are few artifacts of Gryffindor: the sword and the Sorting Hat, but that's about all. There is also the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. He would want to find that as well, and Hogwart's is the place to do just that. No, Harry, Voldemort was interested in far more than a professorship.

"As for your next 'assignment' (finger quotes) I believe Horace knows more than he's telling. He gave me a memory from his experience with young Mr. Riddle, but it was corrupted. I'll need you to convince him to share with us the true memory".

_Hogsmeade_

The October Hogsmeade weekend finally arrived. This time, Jadin brought along Impmon. Jadin figured he owed his partner an outing. At least he could bask in the warmth of Hermione's love. That was about the only warmth he could bask in. A viciously cold wind was blowing through the Scottish highlands, bringing with it dreary gray skies and freezing rain. As a result, the Three Broomsticks wasn't as crowded as it otherwise would have been: a lot of students took a pass rather than walk the distance from the school. Jadin wondered if the weekend would be canceled, and not just due to the weather. There were security considerations as well, but it seemed that Dumbledore had this covered as well. There would, at least, be no more stories appearing in the Prophet about weird critters being sighted in Hogsmeade.

The fireplace at the Three Broomsticks erupted in emerald flames, as Jadin and Impmon stepped out. He was pleased to see that the outing wasn't canceled.

"So what have you been up to?", Jadin asked as he led Hermione to a vacant table. The barmaid came over, and Jadin ordered three butterbeers. "Been too long".

"I was thinking the same. We're working on learning how to cast spells without saying the incantations. It's part of advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not exactly the easiest thing to do, and not so effective, but definitely useful for getting out of tight spots".

"Sounds lot more fun than pre-calc – or everything else for that matter. How's Hagrid and Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Well", she began, "actually we're not taking that class. I felt bad about that, having to make an excuse that out schedules conflicted, and we wouldn't be attending. He was disappointed... There's also something else going on too".

"Oh?", Jadin asked.

"The Professor's been making himself very scarce lately. He just disappears, sometimes for days on end. He hardly ever shows up at meal-times".

"That is odd".

"These invitations arrive at irregular intervals, and off they go. Harry's been very reticent to talk about it, and that's just not like him. Something's definitely up..."

"Do you suppose it has something to do with, well..."

"I'm not sure, but that's the only logical explanation. Oh, and there's something else. You know Slughorn?"

"The Potions instructor?"

"He's holding these parties. It seems he's back to old habits, always sucking up to what he considers 'special' (finger quotes) students. He hopes to curry favour with future influential people within the Wizarding Community. I'm always invited, but I'm not feeling so good about that. A lot of my friends don't get invites - not good enough, I suppose. It isn't fair..."

"Can't the Professor do anything about that?"

"Not really; no rules against it..."

"All I know is this wouldn't be permitted at my school. They're leery enough as it is, teachers fooling around with students after hours, and especially if it doesn't involve school business".

"That's the difference between the worlds".

"So, Impmon, how've you been getting on?", Hermione asked, changing the subject.

"Best I can. F'kin craptop won't even boot, so surfing the 'Net is out. I basically hang out with Cecelia and Kreacher until Jadin comes home from school. It's boring as hell; I almost wish Whatshisname would pull something: at least that would liven things up a bit..."

"Don't say that", Hermione remonstrated. "How's Kreacher doing?"

"His attitude's changed for the better. We set him up with his own bedroom, so he's not sleeping in the boiler room anymore. Though, there was a lot of cognitive dissonance, and he didn't move into his room right away. Poor bastard's not used to being treated kindly. He still doesn't think too highly of Harry", Impmon told her.

"He's grateful to us for rescuing him from having to go to Hogwart's – though it took him long enough to admit it - but still resents that Harry wanted to send him away from the house, his mementos and memories of his Mistress. I can't say I blame him for that. He's also been hinting at something".

"And what would that be?"

"He's been hinting about going to the Digital World".

"I never though of that. Do you think he could?"

"I don't see why not. My folks could put him up while he makes the adjustment. It's just that I never figured on Material World refugees. I don't think anyone has"

"Do you think they would do that for him?"

"If I asked..."

"_He was nicking Sirius' stuff!"_, Harry and Ron were arriving.

"I know, Harry, but let's keep it down", Ron waved to Jadin's table. Jadin and Hermione waved them over, and signaled for more butterbeer.

"Can't the Order keep Mundungus under control?", Harry said in a whisper, though still too loud. "Can't they at least keep him from stealing everything that's not nailed down when he's at headquarters?"

Mundungus Fletcher was a petty thief and strictly small time criminal dealing mainly in stolen property, though he wasn't adverse to pulling the occasional B & E robbery. He was also in the Order of the Phoenix, as Albus Dumbledore had done him a favor: got him out of a stretch at Azkaban, for which Mundungus gave his loyalty. He moved in the types of circles that the other, more respectable, members could not. The very kinds of circles where he would hear the sorts of stories about Voldemort and his plans that the others would not.

"Harry: keep it down. You're attracting too much attention", Hermione reprimanded. There were a couple of warlocks at the next table over who seemed to be taking way too much interest. As was Zabini, one of the Slytherin Quidditch players who was leaning against a column. "I'd be pissed too, if he were stealing my things..."

"Yeah, it's my stuff he's stealing. That vulture probably hit the place the very night Sirius died. I'm gonna have a word with Dumbledore about this. He's probably one of the few people he's actually scared of".

"Good idea", Hermione agreed, "Ron: what are you staring at?"

"Uhhh... nothing", Ron said as he quickly looked away from the bar. It was obvious that he'd been eyeing the very attractive Madam Rosemerta, the barmaid/owner.

"I suspect 'nothing' is in the store room, getting more firewhiskey and butterbeer", Hermione replied sarcastically.

"Sirius never liked those silver goblets", Harry added. At last, he seemed to be calming down. "You'd think he'd at least remove the Black family crest".

"Thieves aren't known for smarts", Jadin explained. "If Fletcher were smarter, he'd be doing honest work".

"So what happened?", Impmon asked.

"I caught Mundungus selling his ill gotten gains right there on the street. To the barkeep from the Hog's Head: no wonder he was less than happy to see me".

"If he tries that again, I'll be sure to give him a Night of Fire up 'long side his head. That'll remind him for a good long while about stealing from your friends".

"What say we get out of here before the weather gets any worse?", Ron suggested.

"Good idea", Harry and Hermione agreed.

"We'll walk with you, though not all the way to Hogwart's", Jadin suggested.

They followed two other Hogwart's students out the door. It was Katie Bell and another girl; they were having a heated argument about something, their words carried on the bitter wind. "It doesn't have a damn thing to do with you, Leanne. Why can't you mind your own business?", Katie was complaining.

"You just pick up a strange package? Doesn't that strike you as being just a little bit dodgy?"

"Why should it? I've known her for years now... Stop it! Give it to me!", Leanne had made a sudden move to snatch away a package wrapped in plain brown paper. Katie yanked back, the package broke open, and Katie rose from the ground. It was rather graceful, Katie extended both arms, and rose straight up, as though she were going to fly away. There was something obviously wrong: the wind whipped her hair, her eyes closed, and face totally devoid of expression.

She was about six feet off the ground when she began to scream. Her eyes opened wide, and whatever she was seeing, or feeling, was causing terrible distress, as her screams continued. Leanne began screaming as well, and grabbed hold of Katie's ankles, as though to pull her back to earth. Harry, Ron, Jadin, Impmon, and Hermione ran to help, pulling at Katie's legs to prevent her flying off. Katie collapsed on top of them, and Harry and Jadin managed to catch her, but they could barely hold her, as she writhed. As she thrashed on the ground, screaming, it was obvious that she wasn't recognizing anyone. The best they could do was to prevent her from banging her head against the pavement.

"Stay here!" Harry volunteered, "I'm going for help!" He looked around, but the street was deserted. He took off towards Hogwart's. Fortunately, he ran into Hagrid.

"I'm glad you're here", he said.

"Wassup, Harry?"

"Someone's been hurt or cursed or something. It's Katie..."

"Someone been curse? Where? Whuh hoppen?"

"I don't know, all of a sudden, she just rose into the air, and began screaming. I don't think she even recognizes us".

"C'mon!"

A couple of minutes later, Harry returned: "Get back!", Hagrid ordered. "Lemme see her!"

Leanne was sobbing now. "I don't know what happened, it was so sudden"

Without another word, Hagrid scooped Katie off the cold pavement, and ran towards the castle. Katie's screams died away. Hermione went to comfort Katie's friend.

"It's 'Leanne', is that right?", she asked.

Leanne just nodded.

"Did it happen all of a sudden? Did you notice any strange behaviour before?"

"No. It was when that package broke open... I tried to tell her...", Leanne's voice failed her, as she pointed to the now sodden package laying in the street. There was a greenish glitter of an ornate, and probably very expensive, silver and opal necklace. Ron bent down, but Impmon grabbed the wrist of his outstretched hand. Ron's eyes widened.

"_Don't touch it!_", Impmon commanded. "There's something wrong with its data..."

"You could have said so", Ron complained as he rubbed his wrist. "You didn't have to twist my hand off".

Harry examined the necklace more closely: "I've seen this before, I'm sure of it. It was in a display case at Borgin and Burkes. The label said it was cursed". He looked up at Leanne: "How'd she get ahold of this?"

"That's just it. She said she had to go to the restroom, and when she came back, she had that package. Said it was a surprise for someone at Hogwart's, but wouldn't say who. She looked strange when she said it... You don't suppose it was the Imperius Curse?"

"She didn't say who'd given it to her?"

"She wouldn't say, just that she had to deliver it to someone at school. I told her it was a foolish thing to do, take a package from some stranger. I told her to leave it behind, or to notify the authorities, but she wouldn't hear any of it... If only she had...", Leanne began to tear up again.

"We'd better get on up to Hogwart's", Hermione suggested. "I'm sorry, Jadin, this Hogsmeade outing didn't seem to work out very well".

"Not your fault. Besides, who knows what would have happened to Ron if Impmon hadn't recognized something was wrong".

Harry threw his scarf over the necklace: "You think that's a good idea?", Impmon asked.

"Better not...", Jadin added.

"Madam Pomfrey will need to see it, besides, it's OK if you don't touch it. No one was harmed while it was all wrapped up, were they?"

"Just be careful".

_Jadin's High School_

It was another day of Early European History, the second class of the day. The teacher was droning on and on, Jadin trying hard to pay at least some attention. Suddenly, there was some sort of commotion outside the class room, shouting, and some popping sounds. He, and everyone else, sat up.

Two figures wearing black robes and silver masks burst into the room: "Jadin Weston", one demanded.

"_Whatthefuck!_", the teacher exclaimed as he jumped up.

"Stupify!", one fired the red light at the teacher, who dropped immediately.

"Stupify!"

"Protego!"

One tried stunning Jadin, but Tonks intervened with a shield charm.

"Not...", Jadin began as Tonks grabbed him. She disapparated with him to outside 12 Grimmauld Place, as she couldn't apparate inside, due to the anti-apparition wards.

"Super Evolution Plug-in S!", Yvonne had her digivice and card out.

_Poromon Evolve! …_

… **HAWKMON!**

"Feather slash!", he nearly took the Death Eater's head off.

"Petit Shine!", he dropped the other.

Kids were screaming and running around, looking for safety, not knowing what had happened, where to go, what to do. Klaxons were blaring.

"I will protect my partner!", Hawkmon declared, as he flew down the hall.

"Petit Shine!", he dropped another before he could disapparate.

_12 Grimmauld Place_

"Why?! My friends...", Jadin complained.

"Our priority is you", Tonks explained. "It was you they were after, and getting you out of there is the best way to protect your friends. Once they knew they failed, they would go before the aurors and obliviators could arrive".

Tonks gave the password that revealed the house, and allowed accesss.

"Jadin?", Cecelia, Impmon and Kreacher came running.

"He was attacked at his school", Tonks announced. "Death Eaters: looking to capture Jadin for Voldemort. I never thought he'd actually try something that brazen", she explained.

"You're OK?", his mother asked.

"I'm fine, but my friends..."

"I'm sure they'll be OK", Tonks reassured a second time. "There were other members of the Order nearby, and the aurors would know as soon as they worked magic in a muggle area..."

"Is there any way to find out? Can we go back?", Jadin asked.

"I'm afraid not, and going back is out of the question..."

Arthur was arriving with Dirk, as they disapparated from the office in case more Death Eaters decided to show up there.

"_What is the meaning of this?!_", Dirk was complaining.

"It was necessary", Arthur explained. "Jadin was attacked at his school in broad daylight. These death Eaters mean business, and if they failed to get Jadin directly, they could easily take you hostage, demanding that Jadin turn himself over to Hewhomustnotbenamed".

"Jadin are you..."

"I'm all right. Dad. Tonks was her usual efficient self, but my friends... the other students..."

"I'm sure they're OK. They'll remember nothing".

"What about work? School?"

"Mr. Weston, that's out of the question", Arthur explained. "It's no longer safe for any of you to leave the protection of the house. You can't go back..."

"Just leave without even so much as a notification? They'll fire me and I'll never get another job!", Dirk complained.

"There's no other alternative. It won't make any difference. Once this business is cleared up, no one at your place of employment will ever know anything about it. As far as they'll be concerned, you will have been a good and reliable employee. We can do that, you know".

"What about Jadin's school? His education?"

"He'll just have to put it on hold for now".

"I should'a been there", Impmon said.

"So should Kreacher".

"Not your fault", Jadin reassured. "I never thought they'd do anything like that either".

"This is unacceptable", Dirk complained.

"This is the reality of your situation", Tonks explained. "If there were any other way, but there isn't. You aren't the only muggles for whom we have responsibilities, but you are the only muggles who're protected by the wards and security charms that living in the headquarters of the Order confers. Hewhomustnotbenamed can't get to you so long as you remain here, nor will he be able to determine your location, as there's an Unplottable Charm over this house. Here, there is no risk; outside, you're on your own".

That evening, the _Daily Prophet _had a report in the evening edition.

**Death Eaters Strike Muggle School**

_In the late morning hours, Death Eaters struck at a school for muggle teenagers. This seemed to be part of Hewhomustnotbenamed and his threats to terrorize and murder muggles. Fortunately, there were no casualties among the muggle students and staff. One Death Eater was struck and killed by some sort of attack. Two more disabled, and sent to Azkaban where, so far, they are refusing to talk. The aurors acted swiftly, and it is believed that this prevented a far greater tragedy._

_From witness reports, it would appear that these Death Eaters targeted a particular student, as they asked for him by name. The identity of this muggle student is being with held for his own safety. As for why these Death Eaters wanted a muggle student, we haven't a clue..._

There was a supplementary article:

**Another Strange Creature Sited**

_The incident at the school for muggles could have been much worse were it not for the intervention of another unknown being. This time, the description was that of a sapient, vaguely anthropomorphic bird resembling a hawk. This creature killed one Death Eater with a blow that nearly severed his head. Two others were disabled, and did not disapparate as the aurors were arriving. They were sent to Azkaban for further questioning._

_As with the incident at the Brockdale Bridge, once again, Death Eaters found themselves opposed in their mission by the unexpected intervention of unknown beings. The form the latest being took is vastly different from the one at Brockdale. It is not known if there is a connection. If anyone has any information regarding the unknown beings, they are urged to contact Magical Law Enforcement or the Ministry. The Minister promises that anonymity will be respected._

The muggle press reported a failed kidnapping. Jadin remembered his classmate with the digimon in her book bag.


	19. An Unusual Christmas

**19) A Very Unusual Christmas**

_Hogwart's: Herbology_

"How many does that make?", Ron asked Hermione.

"I beg your pardon?", she asked, perplexed.

"You know what I'm talking about: how many invites have you gotten from Slughorn?"

"I don't know... a few. It's not like I care, and I don't even like his parties".

"I'll bet you're going to his Christmas party, aren't you?"

"I was thinking of going, what of it?"

"I haven't been invited _once_. What makes you so damn much better than me? How do the Grangers rate higher than the Weasleys?"

"I don't know why you're getting so worked up over this. I never _asked _to be in his so-called club..."

"Get off it, we both know that Slughorn's sucking up. Everyone knows it. What does he think you can do for him that I can't?"

"I don't know. I never expected..."

"Problem here?", Pomona Sprout asked.

"No, Professor", Hermione answered.

"No, no problems here", Ron agreed.

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, if you'll concentrate on your assignment".

_12 Grimmauld Place_

It was another one of those meetings: Jadin and Impmon disappeared behind the drawing room doors, behind the charms that kept his parents from knowing what they were doing. It didn't help that Jadin explained he wasn't able to talk about it.

"What are you going to do about it?", Jadin asked.

"What are you talking about?", Kingsley asked.

"This attack at school, don't you think it's well past time to let the authorities know what's been going on? Give them the means to protect themselves".

"We can't do that", Mad Eye explained. "The muggles must not know, and, besides, what can they do anyway?"

"And Yvonne and the others?"

"If you aren't at that school, then the Death Eaters won't have any reason to go back. Besides, it would seem that Yvonne and her partner can take care of themselves. We also have installed protective wards around her home. That's the best we can do".

"I disagree. They still need to know. There are some things that even muggles can do, but not if they don't understand the problem..."

"Enough!", Mad Eye barked at him. "There is nothing they can do, and we can't exactly tell them. What would happen if Voldemort knew they were preparing to defend themselves? He would never permit that! The less reason he has to pay them any attention, the better. That's their best defense, at least until we can get this situation under control. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir", Jadin conceded. He was going to get nowhere, he realized.

"Now that that's settled, what about this latest incident?", he asked.

"I happened to notice that my classmate, Yvonne Innis, had a digimon with her. Brought him in his In-Training form. When the Death Eaters struck, she digivolved him to his Rookie state: Hawkmon. The rest, you know better than I do".

"How did they know?", Tonks asked.

"My guess would be Draco and his friends. I suspect they were trying to find out about Impmon. He and Hagrid said they suspected someone was snooping. Who knows what they learned? I don't know when else it could have happened?"

"Someone was definitely snooping", Impmon added. "I heard someone outside on a couple of occasions. Hagrid couldn't catch them in the act".

"And Pansy Parkinson was definitely giving me the once-over. That's how those decrees prohibiting muggle artifacts got enacted".

"I tend to agree", Mad Eye replied. "All we can do is cast protective charms around muggle schools. If Voldemort is making good his threats, schools full of kids are a tempting target.

"If nothing impresses upon you the urgency of our demands that you not leave this house, let this be a lesson to you and your parents".

_Malfoy Manor_

Lord Voldemort was not pleased with the latest developments: "Once again, I lose good followers, and my plans are ruined by these unknown beings, these digimon. There was that incident at the bridge: a simple assignment. Collapse a highway bridge well away from towns and cities, and some 'were-fox' interferes. Next, another one prevents us from taking this Jadin Weston from a school filled with muggles. Another simple assignment. I am not pleased with the performance of my Death Eaters".

"My Lord, if I may?", Lucius spoke up.

"You have something to report? This had best be good, for your sake".

"My Lord: members of the Order of the Phoenix were at the school Weston was attending. There were at least a half-dozen aurors who have left the service of the Ministry, including Nymphadora Tonks, acting as body guards. Then that bird creature joined in, fighting by the sides of the Order. There was no way to anticipate this.

Furthermore, the surviving prisoners who were taken to Azkaban had their memories erased, and they can tell us nothing. This, too, was done before the Ministry's obliviators arrived. There have been other occasions. The muggles have somehow acquired a potion that blinds the eyes and stings the nose and throat. They also have something that works the same way as a stunning spell. It would seem that we have underestimated muggles this time..."

"Silence!", Voldemort roared. "If these two-legged animals are getting the better of my Death Eaters it is due to the utter lack of competence within the ranks! I don't want excuses, I want results!"

"Is it so incomprehensible that the muggles would be better prepared, My Lord", Lucius knew he was taking a very big chance here. "There is also the possibility that the muggle-born are working behind the scenes with the muggle authorities. Those who are denied employment in wizarding positions have been known to join the military as their educations fit them for no other form of muggle employment".

"That is an intriguing notion", Voldemort agreed. "Go on. Is it likely that they would violate the Law of Secrecy?"

"Divided loyalties, yes, I do believe they would. Young people today have less respect for traditions, and that is true of muggles as well".

"You see?!", Voldemort began another rant. "The poisonous influence of this filthy muggle excuse for what they call culture is even contaminating the community of magi. This is why it must be crushed and stamped from existence. This is why no one who isn't of the pure blood must not be allowed the practice of magic.

"As if that wasn't bad enough, we now have these unknown creatures which the Ministry believes are allies. First, that Impmon that attacked me at that very Ministry, the were-fox at the bridge, and now this bird creature. How is this allowed? How is it that they fight with the muggles? Severus?"

"My Lord, haven't we gone over this already? I am still not convinced that is the case..."

"And why not?"

"These so-called unknown creatures have never been identified in any of the Ministry's press releases as digimon, let alone allies. They are as much in the dark about the matter as the rest of us. Furthermore, how is it that they always seem to show up at the same times and places as the Order? I still believe this is Dumbledore's misdirection, and if I say so myself, from what I've seen in this very room, it would seem to be working. We're wasting time and effort looking for monsters under the bed, and things that go bump in the night. It is the muggles and Ministry who should be doing that, should it not? As what's commonly known as a 'psy-op', it would seem to be effective.

"My Lord, we – every one of us who took your Dark Mark – have sworn our loyalty and service unconditionally. None of us were under any illusions that risk didn't come with entering your service as Death Eaters. Let Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix play their silly games. Otherwise, we hand them their small victories".

"What of this Jadin Weston, the American transfer student who shows up unexpectedly. Why is it that the Order is so interested in him?"

"The same reason that Pot-ter lives with his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, the same reason the Burrow where Ron Weasley lives is protected by wards and charms. Or why the Granger girl likewise lives under such protections when she is staying with her muggle parents here in London. Jadin Weston is under the protection of Fidelius and Unplottable charms. How is there anything out of the ordinary here?"

"How is it that you have failed to win his confidence over Dumbledore?"

"My Lord, the Weston lad was one of my better students. At least he came prepared for class every day, followed instructions to the last letter. However, try as I may, I could not impress on him that potion making is as much art as science. He had the science down pat, but lacked the imagination that true artistry requires.

"Among Hogwart's students, I am not exactly one of their favourite professors. I have always admitted that I lack those qualities which Dumbledore has in spades. I do not have teacher's pets, and I concede that I am not fully suited to my profession, as I lack the patience and social skills to develop rapport with these kids. It would have been a different story had he been sorted into Slytherin, which he was not".

"You know nothing else, Severus?"

"No, and I have no way to find out. Weston disappeared about the same time Umbridge took over as Headmistress. Hogwart's lost many good students, including Fred and George Weasley. He has not seen fit to return".

"Dumbledore has not mentioned this boy or his partner?"

"He has not", Snape agreed. "He, of course, laments the students we lost, but that's the extent of any mention".

_The Burrow_

It was Christmas Eve, and Jadin and Impmon had just arrived via the Floo Network. He had it all planned out: Christmas Eve with the Weasley's, Christmas with his own family, and the day after with the Grangers. His parents weren't thoroughly pleased with this arrangement, but reconciled themselves to the fact that Jadin wasn't a little kid anymore. He had a definite friendship with these folks, and Dirk and Cecelia couldn't say they didn't like the Weasley's and Granger's.

The main living room looked like an explosion in a paper chain factory. This was the doing of Ginny, and her over enthusiastic decorating.

"That's about the fuggliest decoration ever", Jadin commented about the ornament on the top of the Christmas tree.

"It's a garden gnome. The little bugger bit George while we were out in the garden collecting carrots. We stupified it, painted it gold, and stuck on that pink tutu and the gossamer wings..."

"Isn't that a little, well, cruel?", Impmon objected.

"I'll tell you one thing: he won't be biting anyone again", George said.

The "wireless" (that's what Molly called it) was playing some truly gawdawful Christmas music. Jadin was more fascinated by the large, appliance in a polished wood cabinet that looked like it was right out of 1920. Unfortunately, the back didn't let him see the interior, and he doubted the Weasley's would appreciate his taking it apart. It was tuned to a station he'd never heard before and never cared to hear again. He figured that whatever that station was, muggles couldn't receive it. How did that work, he wondered, some sort of scrambler? Or did the magical world have something besides radio waves?

It was a program featuring Mrs. Weasley's favourite singer, one Celestina Warbeck. Fleur Delacour, Bill Weasley's fiance, quite agreed with Jadin on that. As the next selection started, something called _A Cauldron Full of Hot, Steaming Love_:

"You remember this song?", Molly asked her husband. "We danced to it when we were at Hogwart's"

"Ummm, yeah, good tune", Arthur replied, though not very enthusiastically.

"Whaddya say? Wanna join us for some Exploding Snaps? You and Ginny against me and Fred?", George invited.

"I'm sure Impmon would like to play, maybe next round". This was always a problem: these wizards still weren't used to treating non-humans with equal consideration. They would go the whole evening, not inviting Impmon to participate in anything, and think they had not committed a social _faux pas_.

Remus Lupin, looking a bit thinner, and more ragged, was just sitting there, watching the flames in the fireplace. Was he waiting for someone, he wondered. Jadin wanted to ask him something.

"Excuse me, Mr. Lupin, but I was wondering..."

"Remus, or Lupin will do just fine. What's on your mind?"

"Haven't seen you around lately, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, I've been underground".

"How do you mean?"

"I've been living with my own kind: werewolves. The majority are on Voldemort's side, and Dumbledore wanted a set of eyes and ears in place, and there I was, ready made for the assignment. It took some doing, winning their trust, I have a reputation. Werewolves were forced into a life on the fringes, stealing and sometimes killing, for their next meal. The Ministry's decrees make it almost impossible to find employment within the wizarding economy. I choose differently. It's hard because of all the negative feelings within the Wizarding World, so I made a professional life for myself among the Muggles. Seems they don't care... I guess you heard that my last foray into working in the Magical Community didn't work out so swell?"

"You mean the Hogwart's professorship?"

"That's the one. Anyway, other weres accuse me of trying to put on airs of superiority, of thinking myself above them somehow because I chose differently. It's still a problem: weres think themselves above muggles".

"So why's Voldemort so popular?"

"Same old story: he promised all weres a better life, and they either bought into his line, or they figure Voldemort can't be any worse than what they have now. They don't realize that it can get much worse, but with Greyback's cheer leading for Voldemort, it's hard to argue otherwise".

"Who's 'Greyback'?"

"Fenrir Greyback: he's a real piece of work. The kind of werewolf who gives werewolves a bad name. It's his self-appointed mission in life to infect as many normals as he possibly can. He especially likes biting children: 'bite them by eight, or it's too late' - get them away from their parents, raise them to hate wizards and muggles, and make them into an army. That's what he dreams of: a werewolf war against wizards. Voldemort has promised him lots of prey in exchange for his services. Voldemort threatens to sic him on the children, and the parents become quite co-operative". Lupin paused, took a deep breathe and continued: "Greyback bit me..."

"When you were a kid?"

"Yes, it seems that my dad had offended him. I didn't learn of this until many years later, but at the time, I didn't know and even felt sort of sorry for the one who bit me. I understood how the transformation felt, thought it was just a random accident, that he had no control. However, Greyback isn't like that at all. He makes sure to position himself close to his victims just before the moon becomes full, so he can strike quickly. He plans it all in advance, and he is the one Voldemort has chosen to lead the weres. Greyback's insistence that we weres have been historically wronged, and that we deserve blood in return - vengeance - against normals has found an all too receptive audience".

"What do you mean? You're one of the most normal people I know! It's just that you have a... problem"

Lupin chuckled: "If I didn't know better... you sound like James. He called it my 'little furry problem'. James and his friends were the few people who ever accepted me... and Dumbledore, of course. Why do you ask?"

"I... have something in mind, and I would like it if you could be a part of it".

"What's that you're on?"

"I can't discuss it right now..."

"You'll inform Dumbledore? You're not thinking of doing anything..."

"No, definitely not", Jadin fibbed. It's something he's hinted at already, you know, while I was still at Hogwart's".

The Order's inaction and indifference to the muggle population was wearing very thin with him. Yes, maybe they meant as well as Harry, Ron, and even Hermione were telling him. Maybe they even meant it.

However, this was still a world where one's standing, even if just unoffficially, was determined by one's blood status. They looked down on those who were different, and there was a long list of these: giants, elves, goblins, werewolves, centaurs. The evidence was right there, on top of the Weasleys' Christmas tree: the garden gnome they were mistreating even now. And that would definitely include digimon. He well remembered the indifference with which members of the Order reacted to the near disaster at the Brockdale bridge. The lack of concern over the attack at the high school, and their outright refusal to meet with officials of MI-6 to inform them as to what was happening.

"I see, just make sure you don't so anything without Dumbledore's knowing about it. Then I'll see what I can do to help out". Jadin hadn't figured how to get around this: Lupin was, like the others, devoted in his loyalty to Dumbledore.

The day after Christmas when Hermione and her parents visited the house at Grimmauld Place went much more normally. Kreacher prepared a meal, and did it right. Though Cecelia worked with him, unlike he was accustomed to during the lifetimes of his mistress, Regulus and Sirius.

Hogwart's was getting along just fine without him, and there was the usual gossip. Ron was dating Lavender Brown. Ron had caught his sister and Dean Thomas "snogging" behind a tapestry, which sent him into a rage, and a nasty fight with his little sister, who was not quite so "little" these days. He was overprotective, and she resented that.

Harry was less than pleased over the whole affair, as he wanted Ginny for himself.

_Hogwart's: Dumbledore's Offices_

"Shall we?", Dumbledore invited Harry to join him in the pensieve.

"Good afternoon, it is so good of you to agree to this meeting", Dumbledore, once again wearing a way out of fashion muggle suit, thanked his host.

"I'm still not sure why you want to talk about Wool's?", Dennis Bishop replied. "That was a long time ago. I don't think they're even in business anymore. Haven't received a begging letter in ten years".

"It has to do with the incident that occurred during an outing to the seaside, and one of your other guests at the orphanage: Tom Riddle".

"How can I forget, as much as I'd like to".

"What, exactly, happened?"

"As you already know, it was one of our regular outings that Mr. Cole arranged to make our stay a bit more pleasant, though Wool's never had much funding, they tried their best to do right by all the kids. This time was a spring picnic by the sea. A lot of us had never seen the sea before, and we were looking forward to it. As I recall, it was low tide.

"Tom conned the three of us, along with Amy Benson – I haven't thought of her in years, and we used to be so close – to go 'exploring'. We were all supposed to stay together, but Tom thought rules applied to everyone else but him. After all the shit he pulled, how he got away with it... it was like magic or something.

"Anyway, we found this cave that you can enter only at low tide, otherwise, the entrance is mostly or completely underwater. What kid can resist a cave? We were like ten, and didn't think this through, I mean, we could have been trapped inside had the tide come back in, or we got lost. That's when it happened...", he paused as though he had to force himself to say it.

"What happened?", Dumbledore prompted. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, and I really don't need to know all the details, just the location of this cave".

"Neither one of us could describe the horrors awaiting us in that cave when Mr. Cole asked us the very same question. That's how Riddle always got himself off the hook. Anyway, there was this underground lake. Enormous, couldn't see to the other side, but it was also dark down there".

"I see. That's worth knowing", Dumbledore agreed.

"You want to find it? You got a map?"

"I brought one with me", Dumbledore said, as he pulled the folded map from an inner pocket.

"What's your interest anyway?"

"As I explained in my letter of introduction, I am a professor. I'm gathering information for a geological survey of this particular cave system".

"I see, and how is it you happened to find out?"

"That was pure serendipity. One of Mr. Riddle's sons attends the university, and he happened to mention it to one of my colleagues".

"So Riddle got married and has a family? I figured he'd've gotten himself locked up. I, for one, was glad to see him go. I had a lot of company in agreement".

"I'm sure you did. Youthful indiscretions can be outgrown".

"More like natural born criminal. A demon seed, if you ask me".

"He has no need to know, and he won't hear about it from me".

The memory ended at this point.

"I don't understand, Professor. What's there to this?"

"This was one of the sites of one of Voldemort's early victories. He scared the living daylights out of two of the children whom he held in the deepest contempt. He put one over on the people who had authority over him, successfully disobeying their rules, he enlisted two of the other children in his defiance, and would have likely set them up to take all the blame. Once again, he avoided punishment for his disobedience, as the adults at the orphanage had no evidence against him. It is part of his character to cherish these early victories. He also believes that this discovery is a secret that he alone knows about. Had the picnic not been held at low tide, he never would have made his discovery, and we know Voldemort likes to believe he understands secrets hidden from everyone else.

"It would therefore make a possible hiding place: hard to find, and he discovered it when he was ten. He likely believes no one would ever find out, or that no one would bother to investigate his past in the detail which I have undertaken".

"What of the other kids?"

"What of them? Voldemort has no fondness for them, and I doubt he even remembers their names. They were contemptible to him then, and they are contemptible to him now. He is not interested in muggles, and he doesn't bother with that which does not interest him. What of Professor Slughorn?"

"I'm still working on it, though I must confess: why is this even necessary? We know he corrupted the memory wherein he claims not to have told Riddle all about horcruxes. Why would he do that if it was the truth? Riddle knows all about them, he was one of Slughorn's pets, so it's pretty obvious: Slughorn told him everything he needed to know, wouldn't you agree?"

"I would like some confirmation", Dumbledore told him. "If you would keep trying?"

"I have an idea, though I've been holding back".


	20. The Hero Falls

**20) The Hero Falls**

_12 Grimmauld Place_

"What... what are you saying?", Impmon asked the shimmering phoenix only he could see.

"Impmon, who're you talking to?", Jadin asked.

"No... one. Just talking to myself. Day dreaming". Jadin didn't quite believe that, but Impmon had never held back before. He decided not to press the matter.

_Hogwart's: Outside the Perimeter_

"Before we go, there are a few things I need for you to understand", Dumbledore told Harry.

"Sir?"

"I need you to promise to do exactly what I say, when I say, and without fail. Is that clear?"

"Yes..."

"That means that if I tell you to hide, you hide"

"Yes, Professor"

"If I tell you to flee, you flee"

"Yes, sir"

"And if I tell you to save yourself and leave me behind, you do it".

"Sir, I..."

"Harry, I need a promise with no reservations here. If that is something you can not give, then I can do this without your help".

"Yes Sir: I promise without reservation".

"Let us be off", Dumbledore apparated with Harry to the site of the Wool's Orphanage outing.

It was low tide, but there was not the slightest trace of a beach. It was not an especially difficult climb down, at least not for Harry. He was much younger, and his hand wasn't crippled. How Dumbledore managed, he didn't know. They crossed stepping stones to the entrance of the cave, against which ripples lapped.

"Lumos", they lit their wands.

"Are you sure this is the right place?", Harry asked. There was no sign of any underground lake. So far as he could tell, it was just an ordinary cave.

"I am quite sure", Dumbledore replied. "I sense that some powerful magic has been performed here".

He felt along what looked like an ordinary wall: rough, cool stone with moisture clinging to its surface. To Harry, nothing seemed the least bit out of order here, nothing of much interest should any muggles come along.

"Here", Dumbledore said, "this is the entrance".

"How do we get in, then?"

"Blood sacrifice", Dumbledore replied. "You'll have to cut my hand"

"Maybe I should do it?", Harry offered.

"No, Harry, you will need your strength. You promised to follow my instructions".

He had no choice, and made a cut across the palm of Dumbledore's good hand. As soon as he smeared the blood across the wall, it revealed itself for what it was: an artificial partition that concealed the lake from view.

This was the largest part of the cave; the illumination of their wands didn't seem up to the task of banishing the dark. However, there was a greenish glow visible in the distance. How far away, he could not tell. Dumbledore led the way along a narrow ledge. One misstep, and they'd fall into the lake whose depth there was no way of determining. It could have been inches shallow or hundreds of feet deep, and it would make no difference. Dumbledore seemed to be searching for something...

"Give me a hand", Dumbledore requested as he pulled a length of chain from the water. It looked like it could anchor a battleship, though was unexpectedly light. The opposite end was attached to a small boat that looked as though it could accommodate just one passenger. It was a tight fit for both Harry and the Professor.

Once on board, the small boat took off for the glow on the "horizon". To his horror, Harry saw by the glow of his wand that they were not alone. Faces looked up at them from just below the surface: inferi. These were undoubtedly murder victims from Voldemort's last rampage. There must've been at least a hundred of them, programmed to allow no other passage than this small boat.

The boat was slowing as it approached an island in the middle of the lake that was no bigger than a large throw rug. Now the source of illumination was obvious. In the center of the island stood a polished stone "altar" of some sort.

A stone basin was half filled with an opaque, green glowing liquid. Beside the basin, a fancy silver chalice. Even though this liquid looked no more viscous than water, its surface was impenetrable.

"Accio", Dumbledore tried the summoning spell. This wasn't gonna be that easy, he understood.

"Do you know what it is?", Harry asked.

"I was afraid he'd do something like this", Dumbledore explained. "It's some variation of the Draught of Desolation. The only way to remove it is to drink it – all of it. No matter what I say, no matter what you see, you must keep me drinking this potion until it's all gone even if you have to force me. It's the only way to survive with sanity intact"

With that, Dumbledore filled the chalice.

"Why not just pour it out?", Harry asked.

"That is quite impossible", Dumbledore replied. He turned the chalice upside down, but the potion did not run out. "To your health, Harry". The first chalice-full was bad enough. It felt like his guts were being tied up in knots, and there were at least five more to go. Then there were the cramps, the chills alternating with fiery hot flashes, the horrendous visions.

Harry had to take over: "C'mon Professor, you have to keep drinking"

"No more", he gasped, "I'd rather die"

"Your orders, Professor, now bottom's up"

"No..."

Harry had to hold his nose while pouring the contents of the chalice down his throat. He swallowed involuntarily.

"Just one more and done", Harry said as the basin was nearly empty.

Dumbledore lay on his back, panting from the ordeal, but otherwise, he seemed fine. A fancy gold locket was revealed, and Harry easily picked it up.

"Got it!", he exaulted. The basin refilled itself, though this time, with some sort of clear liquid.

Dumbledore slipped it into a pocket: "Water", he said.

"Aquamente", He cast the spell that filled the chalice to the brim with water. As soon as Dumbledore was about to take a long drink, the chalice was empty. Harry tried again, but the result was no different.

"I'll get...", Harry began.

"Don't!", Dumbledore ordered.

It was too late. The instant the chalice touched the lake water, the army of inferi was activated.

"Impedimentia!', Harry cast the spell, but there were too many of them, and he couldn't delay all of them at once.

"Sectumsempra!", he tried this spell he'd learned of from his borrowed potions text. He'd used it on Malfoy, but it did no good, as the inferi were already dead.

"Ring of Fire!", Dumbledore was able to cast the only spell that could deter them, despite his being in a very bad way.

Harry helped the greatly weakened Dumbledore into the tiny boat, which automatically returned to its "dock". Once the chain was reattached, the boat sank, pulling the chain with it, all trace it was ever there, gone once again.

Now, he had to get the Professor across that thin ledge to the entrance without either of them falling in, as that would activate the inferi again.

Harry smeared a bit of blood from a cut he received during the fight to keep Dumbledore drinking that potion.

"I can't do it Harry. It's up to you..."

"What are you saying?! I haven't even finished the lessons!"

"You can do this, Harry. You know enough, it's the only way"

_Hogsmeade_

He was concerned, as this was the first time he'd ever apparated apart from the lessons in he'd been taking, and which he had not yet completed. Being underage and unlicensed, he shouldn't have been doing it at all, not alone, and certainly not a Slide Apparition. Could something have gone wrong in their haste to get out of that cavern.

"Are you OK, Professor?"

"I've been better, Harry. That potion: it wasn't exactly a health drink", he replied in ironic understatement.

"Sir... it'll be OK", Harry reassured as he looked around for anyone who might help them. "I'll get you to Madam Pomfrey. She'll know what to do..."

"No, not Madam Pomfrey: Severus. I need Severus..."

"OK, Snape then". It was obvious that Dumbledore would never make the walk to Hogwart's. "I'm going to have to leave you for a while, to see if I can find us help..." Harry was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Fortunately, someone had seen or heard, despite the lateness of the hour.

It was Madam Rosemerta, sloppily clad in fluffy bedroom slippers, wearing a silk bath robe embroidered with dragons: "I happened to see you apparate... couldn't sleep... what's wrong with Albus?"

"He's hurt. I was wondering if he could stay at the Three Broomsticks while I go to Hogwart's for help?"

"You can't go up there", she explained. "I guess you haven't heard... haven't seen it..."

"If you'll help me get him inside...", Harry started. What she'd just said didn't register at all.

"Rosemerta, what's happened? What's wrong?", Dumbledore asked.

"Albus... the Dark Mark. Over Hogwart's", she pointed.

Harry turned to look. It was as she said: the black clouds against which blazed the green image of a skull with a serpent slithering from the mouth. (The first idea that popped into his head was a recollection of a scene from an _Indiana Jones_ movie he once saw with Dudley, and his aunt and uncle, on one of the few occasions Harry had been included in a family outing. This being at Dudley's insistence.) The sign that the Death Eaters left behind after committing a murder. The thought filled Harry with dread. Who was it? A student or member of the staff? Was it someone he knew?

"When did it appear?", Dumbledore asked.

"I'm not sure, but it wasn't there when I let the cat in... maybe five, ten minutes?"

"We need to return to the school at once!", Dumbledore announced. He seemed to discover a new reservoir of strength, as he regained the steadiness of his feet. He would never allow anything to threaten his school, his students and staff. "We need transport... brooms..."

"There are a couple behind the bar..."

Harry whipped out his wand: "Accio Rosemerta's brooms!" he commanded. There came a sound from behind the bat wing doors, these flew open, and the two brooms appeared, seeming to race each other to see who'd get to Harry first. They stopped by Harry's side, at waist height, waiting.

Dumbledore hoisted himself onto the closest broom: "Rosemerta, contact the Ministry at once. Send a message to Hogwart's. It's possible that no one there is yet aware that something's going on... Harry: put on your invisibility cloak", he ordered.

They kicked off, gained altitude, and turned toward the Dark Mark. He glanced over at Dumbledore, ready to prevent a fall. This time, it didn't look like that was going to happen as Dumbledore seemed quite steady on his broom. As Harry looked on, he wondered: how long had they been away? Was it one of his friends? Hermione? Ron? Another member of Dumbledore's Army? It was he, after all, who had suggested that they patrol the corridors, leave the comfort of their dorms. Would he be responsible for losing yet another friend? He put that thought out of his mind.

As they neared the perimeter, Dumbledore was speaking some unfamiliar language. Harry knew why: he was opening a passage through the security perimeter which he had set in place. This is why they were able to soar over the walls surrounding the grounds. They were close enough to see that the Dark Mark was above the Astronomy Tower, the school's tallest. Dumbledore arrived first, dismounted a bit unsteadily, Harry saw, as he landed behind him. The tower ramparts looked deserted, nothing seemed out of place. The door leading to the staircase was closed, no sign of a struggle, no fights to the death, no body.

"But what does it mean?", Harry asked. He looked up and the green skull and serpent were still there, the afterglow bathing the ramparts with a greenish light. "Could it be a fake? Maybe no one... Professor!", Harry called out. Dumbledore was clutching at his chest with his blackened right hand.

"Go and wake Severus. Do it now; tell no one, don't remove your cloak. Bring him to me, ASAP", he both ordered and requested.

"But..."

"No 'buts', Harry. You swore to obey me unconditionally, or have you forgotten already?"

As soon as Harry reached the door, he heard loud footfalls coming up the stairs. He turned, looked to Dumbledore with a wordless question, and received a wordless hand wave that meant back off. He did so, drawing his wand. The door flew open, but Harry couldn't see who was there.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry felt himself become rigid and immobile. He couldn't move, and he couldn't make a sound. He wondered how this was possible. Expelliarmus wasn't an immobility charm... He saw Dumbledore's wand go sailing off into the darkness. The professor must've cast that charm nonverbally in those few seconds instead of using that time to defend himself. It made no sense to Harry. Dumbledore stood, back to the ramparts for support, now very pale - much more so than Harry could ever remember. But Dumbledore didn't look the least bit concerned.

This didn't surprise him. Dumbledore had acted the same while confronting Lord Voldemort himself.

"Good evening, Draco", he said, "Or good morning might be more appropriate, come to think of it".

Draco stepped into Harry's field of view. What was he doing here? How did he get in? He'd been expelled with the other Slytherins who'd abused their authority as part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad. Draco looked around quickly.

"Who else is here?", he demanded. He'd noticed that there were two brooms.

"That's the same question I'd ask of you. Or are you acting alone?"

"No", he said, "I have more competent back up this time than Crabbe and Goyle. Thanks to you, I've had plenty of spare time to study on my own. I've infiltrated your precious school with Death Eaters".

"Well, well", Dumbledore replied in a tone that was more appropriate to examining a well made homework project, "very good indeed. So you found a way into the school?"

"Yeah, right under your nose, you old fool! You've worn out your welcome. You've lost your touch. You should've retired years ago".

"You're not the first to point that out, and I don't suppose you'll be the last. I'm one of those types with whom retirement just does not agree. Not so long as there are young minds that thirst for knowledge, or young lives to mould. Where are these colleagues of yours? It would appear they are not as loyal as Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. Or are you really alone?"

"They had a fight with some of your people. They're mopping up, and should arrive directly. I have a mission to complete".

"In that case, you'd best get it done, m'boy", Dumbledore replied, still in that unconcerned tone of voice.

Harry could do nothing more than try to hear the fight going on, watch, trapped, a prisoner of his own body. Or he wasn't as helpless as he thought? It was one of the lessons for more advanced work he'd been studying this year with Professor Snape in DADA: the nonverbal casting of spells. He had not had as much success as some, like Hermione. He also had more success (despite that Professor Snape implied otherwise) than others. Even though it wasn't the easiest charm he'd ever learned, he had done it, hadn't he? Didn't he just successfully Slide Apparate, even though he hadn't completed the course in Apparition? He concentrated: "Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!"

"Draco, Draco", Dumbledore actually smiled. "You are not a killer..."

"_You_ kicked me out of school! _You_ put my father in prison, ruined his reputation - and mine, and Mother's! _You_ ruined _my_ life! Give me _one_ good reason I shouldn't..."

"Oh, I don't doubt your resolve. Nor do I doubt that you had every intention to exact your vengeance. However, you have never killed before, and innocence finds it is not so easy to pull the trigger when push comes to shove. It's one thing to attempt to send me a cursed necklace, or poisoned mead, but those were such feeble attempts. It's quite a different matter to look your victim in the eye as you take his life. It doesn't seem to me that you ever really had your heart in it".

"It _has_ been in it!", Draco insisted vehemently. "I've been planning this for months! Tonight..."

They were interrupted by a muffled shout. Draco glanced back at the door.

"Someone's putting up a good fight", Dumbledore commented casually. "Tell me: how did you manage to introduce Death Eaters past the perimeter? I thought this quite impossible. How did you do it?"

Draco said nothing, as he seemed to be paying more attention to the sounds of the fight below them. It looked as if he were under a Freezing Charm of his own.

"Perhaps it would be best if you got on with it? What if your back up isn't coming? As you have figured out by now, members of the Order of the Phoenix are also here. Nor do you really need the help, as I am quite defenseless".

Draco simply continued glaring at Dumbledore. His wand hand was shaking.

"I see, you're afraid to act until your friends join you".

"I'm not afraid! It's you who should be afraid!"

"I don't think so, Draco. I don't believe you to be a killer. If you were going to do it, you would have done it by now. I'm not stopping you. Your conscience is stopping you. It's the one thing that the Dark Lord has failed to take from you, and for that you should be grateful. So tell me while we wait for your friends, how did you manage to slip them past all the security?"

Malfoy looked like he was fighting off the urge to hurl. He swallowed hard, took several deep breaths, and as if he couldn't help himself: "I used that old vanishing cabinet up in the Room of Requirement. I discovered a couple of years ago that it had a mate when Montague got himself trapped in it. He told me that when he was stuck in the one at Hogwart's, it was like being in a state of limbo. Sometimes he could hear what was going on here, and at other times, he could hear what was going on elsewhere, which he eventually realized was Borgin and Burkes. He couldn't get anyone to hear him. That's when he apparated out, even though he had never done it before, and flunked his apparition test. He nearly died trying. Everyone thought it an interesting story, even if they didn't believe him. Not even Borgin recognized the significance of what he said. That's when I realized that these cabinets could become transporters. If you have the mate..."

"Ingenious, indeed. And the mate is..."

"At Borgin and Burkes. That one wasn't working right, which is why Montague simply didn't step out of it, and return to school by more conventional means. I arranged with that old fool to have it fixed. Once that was done, we entered the Room of Requirement, past all your security".

"Very good, very good indeed. A very clever plan..."

"Yeah! Yeah, it was!" It looked as if this was the wrong thing to say, as Malfoy seemed to draw courage from Dumbledore's praise.

"However, you couldn't be sure. That's why the cursed necklace and poisoned mead. You couldn't be sure Borgin could pull it off, could you?"

"Yeah, well you weren't aware of who was behind that, were you?"

Dumbledore slid a bit down the ramparts, the strength in his legs giving out a bit. Harry continued to struggle against the immobility charm, still tried to cast a patronus nonverbally.

"Quite the contrary. You have been here under my watch for five years. It didn't occur to you that I might have come to know you, if even only a little? It didn't occur to you that the Order has been keeping you under surveillance? How long has poor Rosemerta been under the Imperious Curse?"

"Figured that one out didja?"

"So Rosemerta was forced to lurk in her own restroom, waiting for the first Hogwart's student to come along. And to poison a bottle of her own house brand before sending it to Professor Slughorn, believing it to be a gift meant for me. Mr. Filch wouldn't think to examine a bottle with Rosemerta's label on it. As for tonight, I'm a bit puzzled as to how you knew... Of course, Rosemerta must've seen me leaving the school and contacted you, so you decided to spring the trap".

"Yes she did, she said you were going out for a drink, and that you'd be coming back".

"Well, I certainly did have a drink, and I did come back".

"We put the Dark mark over the school so you would hurry back to see who'd been killed. And it worked!"

"Yes... and no. So I'm to gather that no one has been murdered?"

"Oh someone's dead alright. I tripped over the body on my way to the tower stairs. One of your people... Don't know who, it was dark. I was supposed to be up here sooner, but that damn phoenix of yours got in the way".

"Yes, they do have a tendency to do that".

There was another loud bang, shouts, and it sounded closer than ever. Perhaps in the stairwell itself. Harry redoubled his efforts to cast a patronus. Someone was dead, but who? There wasn't much time left. He _had_ to do it... "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"

"We haven't much time", Dumbledore explained, "Let us explore your options, Draco..."

"_My_ options! I'm the one with the wand. I'm the one who's going to kill you!"

"Let's not have any more pretensions about that. If you were going to kill me you would have done it as soon as you disarmed me. You wouldn't have paused to have this pleasant conversation about ways and means..."

"I don't have any options! Don't you get it, you senile old fool? He threatened to kill me - kill my whole family - if I don't kill you. I've _got_ to do it!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position. I really do. Why do you think you haven't been confronted by any members of the Order? I knew that Voldemort would kill you the instant he knew I suspected. Nor could anyone speak to you about this mission you're on in case Voldemort decided to use legilimancy on you. Now, we can speak freely. No real harm has been done, as Ron and Katie Bell have both recovered completely. I can make your legal troubles go away, and you'll never have to spend a day in Azkaban for what you've done. I can help you, Draco"

"_No you_ _can't_! He'll kill me, my family. Don't you understand..."

"He can't kill you if he thinks you're already dead. Voldemort never intended for you to get out of this alive. Some memory modification, and his Death Eaters report on how you gave your life valiantly for the cause. He'll believe that. Come over to the right side; we can hide you better than you can ever imagine. I give the word, and the Order of the Phoenix will spirit your mom and dad into hiding. Voldemort and his Death Eaters won't question that the Order captured and killed Lucius and Narcissa. Come over to our side: you are not a killer Draco".

"I got this far didn't I? They may have thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here. I have the wand, and you're in my power. You're at my mercy..."

"No, Draco, it's _my_ mercy you should be concerned about..."

Heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs, the door banged open, and four figures clad in black robes pushed Draco aside. Harry looked on filled with terror: the Death Eaters had won. A rather lumpy-looking man with an odd, lopsided leer gave a wheezy cackle: "Dumbledore cornered like a rat!" he crowed. "Dumbledore wand-less! Dumbledore alone! Well done Draco!" he congratulated.

"Good morning Amycus", Dumbledore greeted, as if welcoming them to a tea party. "I see you've brought along Alecto... charming"

"Think your jokes'll help you weasel out now, do you?", she gave an angry titter.

"Jokes? No, these are just good manners", Dumbledore replied.

"Do it!", commanded a larger angry man with dark, matted hair, grey whiskers, and whose robes seemed to be a tight fit. His voice sounded like no other human voice Harry had ever heard: a raspy bark of a voice. He was close enough for Harry to catch the scent radiating from him, a combination of sweat, dirt, and blood. His filthy hands had long, untrimmed, yellow nails suggesting claws.

"That you, Fenrir?", Dumbledore asked.

"Yeah, happy to see me Dumbledore?", he replied sarcastically.

"Can't say that I am".

Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood dripped down his chin, as he ran his tongue around his mouth, slowly, obscenely. "You know how much I like kids, Dumbledore?"

"So I take it your lust for human flesh can't wait for a full moon anymore? That is most unusual".

"That's right. Shocks you, don't it? Frightens you? Dumbledore?"

"No, you just disgust me. I confess that I'm a bit surprised that Draco would invite you, of all people, to the school where so many of his friends reside".

"I didn't", Draco complained, for once sounding like he was defending himself to his old Headmaster. He wasn't looking at Fenrir, and didn't seem to want to do so. "I didn't know he was coming".

"I wouldn't want to miss dropping in on Hogwart's: so many delicate throats to rip out. So much luscious young flesh to dine on. Delicious!"

He started picking his teeth with a yellow fingernail: "I could do you for afters, though I figure you'd be a bit on the stringy side..."

"No", said the fourth Death Eater. "We have our orders, and Draco has to be the one to do it". Turning to Draco: "Now, Draco, and quickly!"

Draco's resolve had all but dissolved. He looked positively terrified as he looked on Dumbledore's face. He was weaker than ever, having slid down the rampart wall, barely able to stand for much longer.

"Looks like he's a goner anyway", wheezed the lopsided man. "Look at you, what the fuck happened to you, Dumby?"

"The usual: slower reflexes, weaker resistance. Old age, to keep it simple. One day it will happen to you too... if you're lucky, that is".

"What's that mean?! What's that mean?!", the Death Eater raged. "Always the same, Dumby. Talk, talk, talk, and no action! I don't even know why the Dark Lord's wasting his time, ordering your assassination. Come on, Draco! Do it!"

(_They've blocked the stairs! Reducto! Reducto!_)

Harry drew encouragement: these four had not succeeded in eliminating all opposition. They'd blocked the stairs, but help was definitely on the way.

"Now Draco! Quickly!", the brutal man ordered.

There was not a chance he could. His wand hand was shaking so badly that, even if he got off a spell, it probably would have missed, even at this close range.

"I'll do it", snarled Fenrir, as he started towards Dumbledore, hands out, ready to strangle or tear his throat out.

"I said no!", shouted the man with the brutal face. There was a flash of light that threw the werewolf into the wall. He staggered a bit, steadied himself, looking furious.

"Draco, either do it, or get the hell out of the way so one of us...", the woman screeched. Just at that moment, the door banged open once again, and Professor Snape stepped onto the floor. Wand out, his dark eyes surveyed the scene, from Dumbledore, slumped against the wall, to the four Death Eaters.

"We've got a problem, Snape, the boy doesn't seem able..."

"Severus", Dumbledore called out softly. That sound was more terrifying than any other: for the first time, Dumbledore was actually pleading. No longer did he seem to be in charge.

Snape said nothing, just stepping forward, roughly shoving Malfoy aside. The Death Eaters, even the werewolf, fell back.

"Severus... please...", Dumbledore said softly.

Snape raised his wand, aiming right at Dumbledore: "Avada Kedavra!"

The beam of green light connected. Harry's scream of terror was never voiced as he was forced to watch, helpless, as Dumbledore was lifted off his feet. For a split second, he seemed to float, suspended, in mid-air under the green glow of the Dark Mark, then drop over the battlements, like a man-sized rag doll, out of sight.

**"IMMMMP MONNNN!"**

_12 Grimmauld Place_

Something disturbed Impmon's sleep. He thrashed about, moaning softly. His partner, Jadin, was too deep in sleep to notice. Impmon sat up, a silvery stag stood at the foot of his bed. "Understood", he told it. He got up, and headed by moonlight to the gas valve on the wall. He flicked up a fireball and lit the chandelier.

"Jadin! Wake up!", he called out.

"Uhhhhh... Wassup?", Jadin grunted out, barely awake.

"We gotta go! Harry's in trouble!"

Jadin was awake at once: "Where? What?"

"Hogwart's. Something's going down; Harry needs us".

Jadin was up in an instant. As he hastily dressed in a T and jeans, Impmon pulled on his gloves, tied the red bandanna around his neck, and stuck on the Velcro backed smiley badge. Jadin hooked his digivice and card carrier to his belt, slipped his charmed scroll into a back pocket.

They made their way quietly to the main living room. Impmon lit a small flame in the fireplace. Jadin took a pinch of Floo Powder from the tin that was always at the ready on the mantle: "Hogwart's: Headmaster's Office!", he called out as they stepped into the emerald flames. This was the only fireplace to which they had access.

Dumbledore was elsewhere, and Fawkes seemed to be missing as well. Jadin didn't have time to think about it as he and Impmon headed for the spiral staircase leading out of the office complex.

The sounds of the fight were clearly audible as soon as they left the spiral stairway.

"Impmon!", Jadin called out, as he reached for his digivice.

"Right!", he replied.

"Super Evolution Plug-in S!"

_Impmon evolve! ..._

**... KYUUBIMON_Ag!**

The big kitsune took off faster than Jadin could follow. He knew they were headed towards the Astronomy Tower.

Harry felt as though he was also falling. "It didn't happen", he told himself. "It didn't happen! It _couldn't_ happen!"

Snape grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck: "Out of here! Quickly!", he ordered as he pushed him ahead of the other four Death Eaters. Greyback, the brother/sister team, and as they left, Harry realized he could move freely. It hadn't been the Freezing Charm which kept him in place, as that broke with the death of its caster. It was the shock of seeing what he never expected to ever see: the man who'd been nearly a surrogate father, the greatest wizard in the world, dropping helplessly from the Astronomy Tower.

He threw off the invisibility cloak, and chased after the brutal-looking Death Eater, the last one to leave.

"Petrificus totalis!", Harry struck. The Death Eater dropped, but he barely hit the floor before Harry leaped over him, and down the staircase. He chased after Snape with murderous intent. He leaped the final ten steps, landed, and paused to look and listen. The corridor was dark, and the air filled with dust. Part of the ceiling looked like it had collapsed.

A battle raged before him, and as he tried to see who was fighting whom, he recognized Snape's voice: "It's over! Time to go!", he ordered. Harry caught a glimpse of him as he rounded a corner at the far end of the hall. He and Malfoy had made it through and around the fight.

Harry ran after them, but, once again, forgot to pay attention. One of the fighters detached himself from the rest, and threw himself at Harry. Too late did he see the werewolf, Fenrir, as he threw him off his feet. He was pinned to the floor, the werewolf on top of him, all before he could raise his wand. Filthy, matted hair in his face, the scent of sweat and blood filling his nose and mouth, hot greedy breathe at his throat. No chance he could physically match the preternatural strength of a werewolf, even if he hadn't transformed.

Fenrir Greyback never saw it coming. Harry saw a flash of yellow-orange as something threw Greyback off him. It looked nothing like a spell, jinx or hex. He looked back, as he adjusted his glasses. Fenrir was a good six feet away, on his back, bits of charred, blackened flesh clinging to smoking bone. Harry became aware that it had gotten awfully, unnaturally quiet. The sickly sweet scent of burning flesh was becoming all too obvious. He heard the sound of footsteps, turned around to look. A silver, nine-tailed kitsune as big as a horse was coming towards him from other end of the hallway. Harry was up and running towards where he'd seen Snape disappear.

Harry ran past: "Harry...?" Kyuubimon called out, but he didn't slow down.

Kyuubimon checked on the others: Ginny, Neville, Professor McGonagall, Tonks, Remus Lupin.

"Is everyone OK?", Kyuubimon asked.

The Death Eaters: Amycus, Alecto, Fenrir Greyback, a tall blond wizard - all dead, incinerated by the Demon Spirit Fireballs that had hunted them down. The only survivor was the one Harry had immobilized at the top of the Astronomy Tower, stuck up there until the aurors could collect him.

"I think so", Professor McGonagall said, as she eyed the unfamiliar form with suspicion: "Whoever... whatever... you are". Jadin finally caught up.

"Jadin?", McGonagall asked, as she was not expecting to see him here again.

"This is Kyuubimon", Jadin introduced, "Impmon's Champion form. We got word from Harry that there was trouble, and came immediately... What's going on here?"

"Harry said something about Snape and killed. I dunnow, sounds crazy, doesn't it?", Ginny told him.

"Where was Harry going?", Jadin demanded.

"Said something about not letting them escape..."

"That damn fool kid's determined to get himself killed one way or another", Jadin didn't know if they would meet more Death Eaters, but certainly considered the possibility. So far, it looked like Harry still had not learned about charging into situations blindly. "Kyuubimon?"

"He's probably headed out the front, climb aboard", Kyuubimon said, as Jadin took hold of the thick wool rope around Kyuubimon's neck, pulled himself up, swung himself onto Kyuubimon's back.

"He's had a good head start".

He pulled out a card: "Hyperspeed plug-in H!"

"Hang on", Kyuubimon said, as he took off towards the entrance hall as fast as he could. It was a wild ride.

At the entrance hall, Kyuubimon leaped the entire stairs, hit the floor running, and leaped through the still open doors. An enormous blast of foxfire propelled the kitsune across half the lawn before his feet touched ground again. Harry was about twenty yards behind Snape and Malfoy.

"Crucio!", Harry called out. The beam of light dropped Snape instantly. As he approached Snape: "Bellatrix said you need to enjoy it, and I'm going to enjoy this indeed!", he threatened.

Harry wasn't too concerned with Malfoy, and figured he'd disapparate, as he didn't believe Malfoy would be as loyal to Snape - or anyone else - as Harry was to Dumbledore. (The sight of a silver fox with nine tails, the size of a large horse, whose feet and tails were flaming with foxfire, had also pretty much paralyzed Draco with indecision.)

"Harry!", Jadin called out. Kyuubimon leaped and landed, placing himself between Harry and Snape and Draco. With a flick of his tails, he knocked Harry off his feet, to Jadin's surprise. Hit him pretty hard too: knocking the wind out of him, as his wand went flying. Snape was just getting up, wand at the ready, not knowing who'd just arrived.

"Go! Get out of here!", Kyuubimon called out, "Now!"

Neither Snape nor Malfoy were going to argue with that. They ran past the perimeter, and disapparated.

"I HAD HIM!", Harry complained, as he got up. "YOU LET HIM GET AWAY! _HE MURDERED THE PROFESSOR!_"

Jadin was climbing down. "I know. I know all about it", Kyuubimon replied casually, calmly.

"What the _HELL_ are you talking about?"

"Not here, not now"

Hagrid was approaching: "Ah wuz juss bindin' up some bowtruckle legs when I eared awl ter rukus an... _Blimey!_"

"You never met Kyuubimon, Impmon's Champion form".

"Are... _you_ Impmon?", Hagrid asked, unconvinced.

"See for yourself", Kyuubimon said, as the Light of Evolution surrounded him. He dedigivolved to Impmon. "It's called 'digivolution', and I'm still the same Impmon who helped you take care of your critters".

"Hagrid...", Harry called out.

"Whuss hoppened, Harry? Why wuz yer chasin' Snape?"

"He...", Harry had to pause to clear his throat. "Hagrid, he killed...", his voice failed him again.

"Killed?", Hagrid asked, not believing this. "Snape killed? Whuh're yer onboud, Harry?"

"Dumbledore", he explained. "Snape killed Dumbledore". Hagrid looked down, as though he didn't understand.

"Dumblederr, whuh, Harry?"

"He's dead. Snape killed him..."

"Doan say thah", Hagrid reprimanded. "Snape kill Dumblederr... doan be daft, Harry. Whuss made yer say thah?"

"I saw it... _all_ of it... Dumbledore's dead and Snape did it!"

"Yeh couldn'a".

"I saw it, Hagrid"

Hagrid shook his head: the expression disbelieving but sympathetic. Harry recognized an exercise in futility when he saw one. Hagrid probably figured he was confused by a blow to the head, or the effect of some jinx or hex. Hagrid would just have to learn the truth himself.

"Whuh mussa hoppen wuz, Dumblederr mussa tole Snape ter foller'm", Hagrid explained with confidence. "Look: less git yer onupter school... C'mon, Harry..."

Harry was still shaking uncontrollably as Hagrid turned towards the castle. Now, he could see that most of the windows were aglow. He could imagine scenes of knots of students spreading news they knew and rumours they didn't about Death Eaters getting in, the Dark Mark over the Astronomy Tower, speculating on who it was that had died.

The main doors remained open, and hastily clad people were wandering out, looking around anxiously for any sign of Death Eaters, finding none. Harry wasn't paying them any attention: he was looking towards the highest tower, looking for some signs of what he knew lay there, but found none. They were too far away to see the base of the tower. He did notice that some of the people outside were moving in that direction.

"Whuh're dey awl gawkin' ah o'er dere?" Hagrid moved to join the others gathering at the Astronomy tower to see for himself. As they drew closer: "Whuss thah lain on ter groun'?" A small crowd was gathering. "See it, Harry? Rye ah ter foot o' ter tower... Blimey... yer doan s'pose someone got t'rowed...?" Hagrid couldn't complete that thought. Harry walked alongside, feeling the aches and pains where various hexes had connected, though in an oddly disconnected sort of way, as if it were someone else feeling them.

He and Hagrid moved, dream-like, through the crowd to the very front, where dumbstruck students and faculty had left a gap. Hagrid let out a moan of pain and shock, but Harry didn't pay any attention. He stopped only upon coming to where Dumbledore had fallen, as he crouched beside the fallen hero. Though he knew the truth as soon as the Full Body Binding Curse broke, there was no preparation for seeing him like this: spread eagled on the ground, broken, the greatest wizard he'd ever known.

Dumbledore's eyes were closed, but for the odd angles of arms and legs, he just might as well have been asleep. He straightened the half-moon eyeglasses and wiped away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. He stood and looked upon the old, wise face as he tried to comprehend the awful truth: there would be no more discussions about school work, no more social, non-business conversation, no more special lessons, no further adventures. Never again could Dumbledore help him get out of another close call. There would be no more pearls of wisdom, no more gentle, fatherly remonstrance when he fouled up. How could Hogwart's ever be the same without its headmaster?

Jadin never felt more like an outsider, an intruder, than he ever remembered. He looked around at the faces of those he'd called friends and felt dirty, as dirty as a voyeur peeping through windows. He'd known Dumbledore, fought with Dumbledore, shared more secrets of the Digital World with him than with anyone other than his own parents. He'd been welcomed into the Hogwart's family, but still he was not a wizard: he was a muggle. He'd never been touched by loss before.

Harry was pulled from his dream like state by the pain of something pressing into his knee. The locket must have fallen from Dumbledore's pocket. He could see right off that this locket looked nothing like the one he'd seen in the pensieve; it bore no initials of any kind. It wasn't even the same shape or size of Slytherin's Locket. It wasn't the horcrux, Dumbledore drank that hideous potion for nothing; he died for _nothing. _Harry saw that it had popped open. Inside, was a slip of parchment:

_To the Dark Lord:_

_By the time you see this, I will probably be dead. However, I just wanted you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have taken the real Horcrux, and I intend to destroy it as soon as I am able. I face death in the hope that when you finally meet your match that you will be mortal once again._

_Respectfully yours,_

_R. A. B._

_PS: I'll be waiting for you in Hell._

"C'mere, Harry", Hagrid prompted.

"No".

"Yeh canna stay ere, Harry... C'mon now".

"No".

Harry didn't want to leave Dumbledore's side; he didn't want to go anywhere. Hagrid's hand on his shoulder was trembling.

"Harry: come on". This time it was a different voice, a much gentler voice. A smaller and warmer hand enclosed around his, pulling him up. He obeyed its pressure without thinking about it. He was being led back through the growing crowd. A flowery scent on the air, and he finally realized the other hand belonged to Ginny. Incomprehensible voices swirled around him: sobs and shouts and wails slashed at the night, but Harry continued on, past the crowd, up the steps, and into the main entrance hall. Faces drifted in and out of the edge of his vision, peering at him, whispering, wondering.

"We're going to the infirmary", Ginny told him.

"I'm not hurt", he objected.

"McGonagall's orders", Ginny explained. "Everyone's there: Ron and Hermione and Lupin and, well, everyone..."

Fear stirred again, as he recalled: "Who else is dead?", he was afraid to ask.

"None of us..."

"The Dark Mark... Malfoy said he tripped over a body..."

"That was Bill, but he was just unconscious, not dead". At first, that was a welcome relief, but there was still something about how Ginny said it.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure... it's just that he's rather a bit of a mess, that's all. Greyback attacked him. Madam Pomfrey said he won't look the same anymore..." Ginny's voice trembled a bit. "No one really knows what the after effects will be... with Greyback being a werewolf, though not transformed".

"The others: there were others on the ground..."

"Neville and Professor Flitwick were injured, but they'll be all right. The Death Eaters are all dead, killed by whatever that silver fox threw at them... What was it and where did it come from?"

"That would be me", Impmon explained, as he and Jadin were following behind.

Ginny turned: "You transfigured?"

"Yeah", he didn't feel like explaining digivolution right now.

"Harry sent his patronus to let us know what was going on", Jadin explained.

"Harry, if it hadn't been for your Felix potion, I think more of us would have been killed, but everything they threw at us seemed to miss, and you sent Impmon to help us".

"Too little, too late. If only I could have sent word sooner..."

"You shouldn't blame yourself. It was Snape and those Death Eaters, and Youknowwho who share all the blame. You saved all your friends, that's what's important".

They had arrived at the infirmary. Pushing open the doors, they first saw Neville, apparently asleep, in the bed closest to the doors. Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Lupin were gathered around another bed towards the end of the ward. At the sound of the opening of the doors, they all looked up. Hermione ran to Jadin and gave him a big hug.

"You came!", she exclaimed in surprise. "How?", she looked at him, perplexed.

"Harry's patronus: he sent it to tell us he needed our help", Jadin explained. "We came as soon as we could. Unfortunately, we were too late". Hermione wondered what he meant by that.

"I'm just glad you came", she said.

Lupin joined them: "Are you all right?", he asked Harry, very concerned.

"I'm... fine", he replied. "How's Bill?"

No one answered. Harry looked over to where Bill lay, he was hardly recognizable. Madam Pomfrey was tending to the gruesome wounds, daubing them with some sort of green ointment.

"Isn't there a charm you could use?", Harry asked.

"No charm will help these, I'm afraid", Pomfrey explained. "I've tried everything I know, but there really isn't a cure for werewolf bites".

"These are cursed wounds", Lupin explained. "I'm afraid they will never heal completely".

"He wasn't bitten at the full moon!", Ron objected. He continued staring at his brother, as if by sheer force of will he could make the wounds heal. "Greyback wasn't transformed, so he won't become... a real..."

"I highly doubt that", Lupin explained. "He won't be a real werewolf, but there will be some contamination, and he will probably acquire at least some of the characteristics... to what extent is anybody's guess at this point".

"Dumbledore should know something that'll help, though", Ron said. "By the way, where is he? I thought he'd be here by now to check on how Bill's doing".

"Ron: Dumbledore's dead", Ginny explained.

"No!", it was Lupin. He looked wildly from Ginny to Harry to Impmon and back again. He was hoping for some word, some sign, that might contradict this news Ginny had just delivered. Seeing none, Lupin sank into a chair beside Bill's bed and covered his face with his hands. Harry had never seen Lupin lose control like that: he'd always maintained his cool, professional demeanor, and it felt like an intrusion into something very private. Harry looked away. He caught Ron's eye, and gave him a silent look that confirmed what his sister had just said.

"How did he die?", Tonks asked at a whisper. "How did... it happen?"

"Snape killed him. I was there, and I saw everything. We'd just arrived back at the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was. The Professor was ill, and weak, but I think he knew it was a trap. We heard footsteps on the stairs. That's when the Professor immobilized me. I was hidden under the invisibility cloak, and I saw it all. The only thing I could think to do was cast a silent patronus charm. Draco Malfoy entered, making all sorts of wild claims about how he was going to kill the Professor. Then four Death Eaters arrived, then Snape. Snape did it: the Avada Kadavra...", Harry couldn't go on.

Madam Pomfrey burst into tears, Hermione had a hand over her mouth, Ron groaned, Luna's mouth trembled.

No one other than Ginny was paying attention: "Shhhh! Listen!", she ordered.

Outside, a phoenix was singing in a manner the likes of which none of them had ever heard. A lament as filled with sorrow as beauty. How long they stood there, they hadn't a clue. It relieved their pain, to hear their internal mourning externalized audibly. They were interrupted by the arrival of Professor McGonagall, who bore signs of the recent struggle. There were grazes on her face, and her robes were torn.

"Molly and Arthur are on their way", she announced. The phoenix concert interrupted, everyone behaved as if coming out of trances. Some looked to Bill, others rubbed their eyes, shake their heads. "Harry, what happened? According to Professor Hagrid, you were there when he... it happened".

"Snape killed Dumbledore".

"Snape", McGonagall echoed back, "We all wondered... but he trusted... always... _Snape_... I can't believe that"

"Snape was a highly accomplished occlumens, we already knew that", Lupin explained.

"Dumbledore was _certain_ he was on our side!" Tonks added. "I always thought Dumbledore knew something about Snape that we didn't".

"He always hinted that he had a damn good reason to trust Snape", McGonagall added.

"Yeah, with Snape's history, folks were bound to wonder, but Dumbledore told me _explicitly_ that Snape's repentance was genuine. Wouldn't hear a word - not a single word - against him".

"I'd love to know what Snape told him that was that convincing", Tonks asked.

"I think I know", Harry announced. All eyes were on him. "It was Snape who informed Voldemort about the prophecy that sent him hunting down my mum and dad. He said he didn't realize what he'd done, that it was his fault they died. He told Dumbledore he was sorry for that, sorry they were dead".

They continued staring at him.

"And Dumbledore believed _that_?", Lupin sighed. "Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead?", his voice raised. "Snape _hated_ James! With a passion!"

"He also didn't think my mother was worth a damn either", Harry added. "She was muggle born... a mudblood.

No one though to ask how Harry knew this. They were still in shock, still trying to come to terms with the terrible truth of Dumbledore's death.

"It's all my fault", McGonagall announced. I sent Filius to get Severus, I _actually_ sent for him to come help us..."

"It _ain't_ your fault, Minerva", Impmon disagreed.

"Huh? What do you know that you haven't told us?", Harry asked, finally remembering what Impmon said when he was back by the gate.

"_How_ would you know?", McGonagall asked.

"Severus Snape may be a lot of things: unsuited to his profession because he hates kids, he holds grudges and can't turn 'em loose, he holds Harry responsible for all the shit James and his Marauders put him through when he was no older than Harry. He has all the charm of a paper cut... But the one thing he is not, is a traitor..."

"He _killed_ Dumbledore! _Don't you get that?_", Harry accused.

"Harry, the Professor was dead already...", Impmon explained as gently as he could.

"What are you saying?", Tonks asked.

"That doesn't make any sense!", Lupin complained.

"How can that be?", Harry objected. He couldn't possibly imagine that Dumbledore would ever be dying. "We went looking for Slytherin's Locket! We were making plans to recover the rest of the horcruxes! He would've said something to me..."

"Would he Harry? Have you ever known Dumbledore to be one to complain? Haven't you noticed how he'd slowed down?", Impmon asked.

"That was just from the fight at the Ministry".

"No, Harry", Impmon shook his head. "He was stoked to the gills with potions. I ask you again: have you known Dumbledore to be one to complain?"

"No, he wouldn't", Harry had to agree.

"Tonks, Remus, does it really not make sense? You've seen his hand? He got that injury when he put Marvolo's ring on his finger without realizing that it had a worm running in the background..."

"It's called a 'curse', Impmon", Harry corrected. "The ring was cursed?"

"Yeah, cursed, and probably multiple times. Anyway, it began with his ring finger, the blackened, withered, dying skin, then spread to his whole hand. Snape, despite his vast expertise with potions, couldn't reverse the deterioration. The best he could do was slow its progress, but that's all. It bought the Professor a few more months, but he had a week left. At most, ten days. These past few weeks, Snape's been pumping him full of his most powerful pain-killing potions, but even that wasn't enough anymore. He would have passed his final days in indescribable agony with no relief.

Yes, Snape murdered Dumbledore. But it was also an act of mercy".

"And you know this, how?", Minerva asked.

"He told me himself, via his patronus..."

"How...?", McGonagall asked.

"Digimon can see a patronus just as clearly as you can. We can see a lot of things that you believe you conceal from the muggles. You can't hide the underlying data. I explained all of this to the Professor, and to Harry. Why do you think we came? Harry sent his patronus to let me know he needed our help".

"While the Professor had me immobilized, it was the only thing I could think to do, conjure a full patronus nonverbally", Harry explained. "When I saw the Killing Curse hit the Professor, I guess I did it without ever realizing".

"What I don't understand", said Lupin, "Is why Dumbledore would confide this to you, but not to us? This is the first we've ever heard of this!".

"Legilimancy doesn't work on digimon. Our minds operate very differently, and all Voldemort would get from me is gibberish at best. Without knowing the protocol, he wouldn't be able to read my thoughts. Maybe, given a super computer and enough time, but you folks don't like computers, do you? That idea wouldn't ever occur to Voldemort, would it?"

"But _why_ did Snape murder the Professor?", Harry asked.

"It was the Professor's idea, actually. Voldemort was most upset with Snape when he couldn't tell him all about the 'creature' (finger quotes) who attacked him in the Ministry lobby, and took a Killing Curse and survived. He suspected Snape of disloyalty, and so, as a test of loyalty, came up with the idea that he would assassinate the Professor, but not until Draco Malfoy was given the first crack at Dumbledore. Draco wasn't supposed to survive, and that was to be Lucius' punishment for screwing up in the Hall of Prophecy. I don't think Voldemort will be questioning Snape's loyalty any longer".

"Dumbledore sacrificed himself", Tonks said.

"To buy us - and Severus - more time", Remus added.

"And Impmon prevented us from a serious rush to judgement", McGonagall pointed out.

Harry was in a quandary. He despised Snape, the professor whose entire career seemed to be devoted to making his life at Hogwart's as miserable as possible: the constant singling out of Potter for criticism. Whether that was in Potions: of course, Harry hadn't always done everything right. Neither did anyone else, but it was always Harry whose mistakes were revealed to the class. Even if his potions weren't so bad as some of his classmates. It had continued during Defense Against the Dark Arts, when Snape was finally awarded the chance to teach that class. When Barty Crouch Jr was impersonating Alistair Moody with Polyjuice, it was Harry who was blamed for the supplies Snape found missing from his store room. Harry remembered how Snape had threatened to spike his pumpkin juice with Veritas potion, even though it was against Dumbledore's rules.

At first, he had believed that Snape rode him especially hard because he expected more of Harry. He had since come to know this was not true. Even though James Potter was long dead, he was taking out his teen aged resentments on the boy who bore an uncanny likeness to the James he hated: Harry.

Harry was ready to believe the absolute worst of Snape. He _wanted_ to believe the worst of the hated professor he'd seen kill his favourite professor, surrogate father, and mentor. He wanted to believe every foul and dark thing, to see him as being second only to the Dark Lord in evil. Only now, things weren't so black-and-white simple. Dumbledore had been dying since the day he slipped Marvolo's ring on his finger. Harry remembered how he'd been blown off every time he asked about the injured hand: he was promised he would be told "later". Dumbledore always told him it was no big deal, and a small price to pay for the destruction of one of Voldermort's horcruxes. No indication that Dumbledore's strength was slowly waning, at least not until the ordeal in the cave did he suspect Dumbledore wasn't quite himself.

Harry also realized he'd second judged wrongly. He had brought up doubts about Snape to Dumbledore, only to be reassured Snape had his full confidence, and that he was not to question. Dumbledore also would not tolerate Harry's referring to Snape as "Snape"; every time he did it, he received a reminder: "_Professor_ Snape". Harry had thought Dumbledore's trust in Snape was misplaced, only to discover that Dumbledore had been right all along. He had to reconcile himself to the fact that Professor Dumbledore had given his life so that Professor Snape could keep his. He listened to Fawkes' lament.

The doors banged open, and McGonagall leaped up to greet the new arrivals: "Molly, Arthur, I am so sorry", she said.

"Bill", Molly Weasley said as she passed McGonagall without a word. "Oh Bill...", she said as she saw his injuries.

Lupin, Tonks, Impmon and Jadin retreated so that the family could be near their fallen son. Molly Weasley bent over her son, and kissed his bloody forehead.

"You said Greyback attacked him?", Arthur asked.

"It should please you to know you won't have to worry about that bastard: I killed more than his processes", Impmon told him.

"Ummmm...", Arthur said, "Thank you for that. At least he won't be coming for Bill, to finish what he started", he turned back to Lupin and McGonagall: "But he wasn't transformed? What does that mean for Bill?"

"We won't know until he regains consciousness", McGonagall explained, as she looked to Lupin.

"There will probably be some contamination, Arthur", Lupin explained. It is an odd case... we don't know what his behaviour will be like once he comes around". It was the best explanation he could give, even if it wasn't completely reassuring.

Molly took over for Madam Pomfrey, applying the nasty smelling green ointment to the wounds.

"Is it true, Minerva? Dumbledore... is he really..."

As Professor McGonagall nodded, Ginny moved closer to Harry. Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight to Fleur, who was looking on with a frozen expression on her face. Ginny had a distinct dislike for Bill's fiance.

"Dumbledore gone", Arthur said, more to convince himself, but Molly's only concern was for her eldest son.

"It doesn't matter how he looks", Molly said, "But he was always such a handsome boy... always very handsome... and he was going to be married"

"What do you mean by that?", Fleur asked sharply. "What does that mean: '_was_ going to be married'?"

"Well, only that..."

"You think Bill won't want to marry me? You think because of these bites he won't love me anymore?", she continued to accuse.

"No, it's not that..."

"Then maybe you believe _I_ won't want to marry him? Or are you hoping? What do I care how he looks! I'm good-looking enough for the both of us! Besides, my husband's battle wounds will tell the whole world that my husband is a man of courage!", as she pushed Molly aside to take over the application of the ointment.

Molly fell back against her husband and watched as Fleur got busy with Bill's care. No one dare move, and Harry was awaiting the inevitable explosion. It never came.

"You know", Molly began without a trace of anger, "Aunt Muriel has a lovely tiara which I'm sure I could persuade her into letting you borrow. It would look good on you, you know, for the wedding".

"Thank you", Fleur said stiffly, "I'm sure it will be lovely".

Harry didn't know exactly how it happened, but the next thing he knew, both women were in each other's arms, crying and consoling one another. He looked to Ron and Ginny: both of whom had looks of sheer incredulity pasted on their faces. Hermione exchanged a look of disbelief with him. Harry well knew the disapproval the family, especially Ginny, had for Fleur. It was Ginny, after all, who'd coined a rather nasty nick-name for her brother's fiance: Phlegm.

"Look at that!", came a very determined voice. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!". It was Tonks, addressing Lupin.

"That's different", Lupin objected. "Bill won't be a full werewolf. The cases are completely different..."

"But _I_ don't care either! I don't care!" Tonks grabbed the lapels of Lupin's robe. "I've told you a bazillion times: I don't care!"

"I've told you a bazillion times", Lupin refused to look her in the eye, as he kept his eyes on the floor, "That I'm too old... too... dangerous..."

"I've said before, and I say now: you're being ridiculous, Remus", Molly admonished.

"I'm not being ridiculous. Tonks deserves someone younger, someone... _whole_"

"But it's _you_ she wants. Besides, young and whole men don't stay that way forever".

"This is neither the time nor place to discuss it", Remus objected, "Dumbledore is dead..."

"If there's one thing I do know it's this: Dumbledore would greatly appreciate seeing a little more love brought into this world... _especially_ now", Professor McGonagall admonished Lupin.

The doors opened again to admit Hagid. What little of his face that wasn't obscured with thick hair looked red and puffy. He held a large, spotted handkerchief that he mopped his eyes with periodically.

"I dunnit, P'fesser: moved his body. P'fesser Sprout sain ter tellyer ter kids're back in bed. P'fesser Flitwick's lain downan sain he'll be al-rye in a jiffy an P'fesser Slughorn sain ter Mins'try been inferrmed".

"Thank you Hagrid", McGonagall replied. "I shall have to meet with Ministry representatives when they arrive. Hagrid, tell the heads of the houses I would like to meet with them ASAP - Slughorn can represent Slytherin. I would appreciate it if you would also join us".

As Hagrid turned to leave to round up the heads of the four Houses, McGonagall turned to Harry: "Before they arrive, I'd like a quick word with you. Jadin and Impmon, would you two come with me?"

Harry stood: "See you in a bit", he excused himself. Jadin gave Hermione a light hug: "Be back soon".

They followed McGonagall, and saw that the corridors were now deserted, and the only sound was Fawkes' singing which filtered indoors, faintly. It took Harry a few minutes to realize that he was on his way to Dumbledore's offices. He had to remind himself that McGonagall was now the acting Headmistress. The office complex was hers now. Without a word, the four ascended the automatic spiral stairs.

Harry didn't know what to expect. The offices looked as they had just hours before, when he and the Professor left on their last adventure together. There were two things that had changed: Fawkes' perch was vacant, and a new portrait of former headmasters had appeared. The newest addition was Professor Dumbledore, looking quite at ease, the familiar reading glasses propped at the tip of that crooked nose (Harry never did learn how that happened). McGonagall took a look at that portrait, paused to take a deep breathe, and to steel herself for the inevitable: taking her place behind the desk of the Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwart's.

"Jadin, Impmon: officials from the Ministry are already on their way. I think it advisable if you two departed before they get here. It's going to be hard enough to explain the mess you two made downstairs, and too many students saw you and Kyuubimon. It's going to be well near impossible to keep that out of the news".

"We understand... but... what about the funeral?", Jadin asked.

"That is pretty much out of the question. I know that the both of you liked and admired the Professor, and you'd like to say your good-bye's. However, the Professor would understand, and it's more important for you to keep as low a profile as possible. I wish there were some other way..."

"Well, then, I guess this is good-bye", Impmon replied.

"Let Hermione know, I thought we'd be returning..."

"I'll take care of it, Jadin", McGonagall assured.

Jadin and Impmon stepped to the fireplace: "12 Grimmauld Place!", and they left in a gust of green fire.

_12 Grimmauld Place_

Jadin's parents were waiting for him. "What's the meaning of this? Going off in the middle of the night!"

"How did you know? I thought we were quiet enough..."

"Kreacher saw you two leave, and he told us right away".

"Mom, Dad: Professor Dumbledore's dead", Jadin announced.

"Dumbledore? Dead?", Dirk asked, as Cecelia placed a hand to her mouth.

"Death Eaters infiltrated Hogwart's", Jadin explained, "Harry sent word that he was in trouble. We _had_ to go! What else could we do? Abandon our friends when they needed us?"

"Not going would go against the Digimon Code of Honour", Impmon added.

"No, of course you couldn't", Cecelia agreed. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it, putting yourself in danger like that... never knowing when... Dumbledore's _really_ dead? That kind old gentleman we met?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Whatshisname has been trying to have him assassinated ever since he went on that last rampage so many years ago. He was the only wizard he feared, and it was just a matter of time... Tonight, he was finally successful. It's a mess, over there, I mean, everyone's trying to accept it, and Bill Weasley - I don't think you met him - was hurt real bad".

"Ron's brother? What about the other students?", Dirk asked.

"Professor Flitwick, you remember him? Head of House Ravenclaw? He was hit with a Stupify spell, and Neville Longbottom was also injured, but they'll be all right. Bill... they tell me he's never gonna be the same again..."

"Molly and Arthur must be devastated... If only..."

"Send off an owlpost..."

"Yeah, right... I forgot..."

"Well, you'd best be getting off to bed", Dirk said, "We'll discuss this later..."

"I'm not gonna get much sleep"

"We'll discuss it later"

The next morning, as expected, the _Daily Prophet_ was entirely devoted to Dumbledore's assassination:

**PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE MURDERED!**

A headline that took up half the front page. The lead article said nothing that Jadin didn't already know. There was the usual: biographical recap of Dumbledore's life and accomplishments, condolences for Hogswart's staff and students, past and present, interviews with the acting Headmistress, and the faculty advisers of the four houses, and, of course, Hagrid. Statements quoted from various officials attached to the Ministry of Magic, Scrimgeour's speech announcing the assassination. Details of Draco Malfoy's involvement, speculation he'd been recruited as a full member of the Death Eaters, how he'd been responsible for infiltrating Hogwart's. Snape was a wanted man. Jadin was looking for any references to his involvement, and Impmon's. McGonagall had kept their names out of the news.

There was an inside article; McGonagall hadn't been completely successful.

**Another Sighting at Hogwart's**

_"There has been another sighting of unknown beings, this time, at the campus of Hogwart's itself. It is not known how the creature circumvented the security perimeter. Ministry spokesmen expressed their concern over this act of infiltration, despite the heightened security measures put in place during the summer break. There has been speculation that Albus Dumbledore allowed the creature and a human companion admittance onto the campus shortly before his death._

_Unlike previous sightings, the being was accompanied by an unknown youth. This person was described as about sixteen years of age, male, and dressed in muggle attire. He was not recognized as a student of Hogwart's. He also does not appear to be with the Death Eaters, and is not believed to have been involved with the assassination of Albus Dumbledore. It is unknown how they gained admittance, nor how they knew of the fight at Hogwart's. Lines of communication into and out of Hogwart's show no communications asking for outside help. Ministry law enforcement was alerted to the appearance of the Dark Mark by a resident of Hogsmeade._

_Students interviewed after the attack at Hogwart's claim to have seen a large, silver 'fox' that suddenly appeared, joining the fight against the Death Eaters who were burned beyond recognition this time. There was just a single survivor, who was taken into custody. As of this writing, he has refused to answer any questions"._

This time, there was an all too clear and detailed black-and-white picture of Kyuubimon, obviously copy and pasted from a pensieve recollection. Had Jadin magical ability, he would have seen himself and Kyuubimon leaping the main staircase. As it was, all he saw was Kyuubimon suspended in mid-leap. Fortunately, the person whose memory this was didn't get a close look at Jadin. The caption under the

photo read:

_Anyone who can identify this being and/or this individual is urged to contact Ministry law enforcement immediately_

_"The creature's motivation for attacking the Death Eaters is unknown. The acting Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, has answered all inquiries about this creature with 'No comment'. The Hogwart's gamekeeper, Rubius Hagrid, also refuses to confirm or deny any knowledge of said being. On Headmistress McGonagall's directive, faculty and students declined to be interviewed by this reporter._

_The Office of the Minister of Magic urges this individual to come forward immediately. Anyone with knowledge of these unknown beings is urged to come forward. It is imperative that the Ministry ascertain the identities, motivations, and intentions of these unknown beings and their masters"_

"Looks like we're famous", Jadin commented to Impmon, who was reading over his shoulder.

"I dunnow...", he replied. "I don't see anything good coming from this: you know the Dark Lord's gonna take way too much interest now..."

"It was inevitable", Jadin replied. "More and more, it looks like it's up to us".

_Gryffindor Common Room_

"I don't know any R. A. B., sorry", Ron apologized. It was the morning after, and Harry had showed the note he'd found in the counterfeit horcrux.

"I have no idea either", it was one of the few occasions where Hermione didn't have an answer. "I'll have a look in the library, what more can we do? One thing we do know: whoever it was, they must've known Youknowwho well if he had access to the genuine horcrux. Maybe he was successful in destroying it? That would be one less to worry about".

"So, do you suppose Hogwart's will remain open?", Ginny asked.

"Don't know; don't care", Harry replied.

"What are you saying?", Ginny asked.

"There could be as many as four horcruxes out there, somewhere. That was the mission that the Professor and I were on: to find the damn things. With the Professor gone, it's up to me now. I can't hide out at Hogwart's; I can't come back until this job is completed before I meet Voldemort, and if I come across Snape, well, I don't know..."

"Where will you go?"

"First, I'll be spending some time with the Dursley's, the Professor would have wanted that. Afterwards, I figured on dropping by Godric's Hollow. I can't think of a more suitable place: to begin where it all began..."

"Harry, mate, did you forget what Jadin told you? He said one of your biggest problems was thinking you had to do everything by yourself..."

"I have to face Voldemort alone, there's no other choice..."

"But you don't have to find the horcruxes by yourself. We wouldn't be very good friends if we let you do that, would we? We're behind you 100% no matter what happens, but on one condition".

"What's that?"

"First, you need to be there for Bill's and Fleur's wedding".


	21. Welcome to the Digital World

**Welcome to the Digital World**

_Malfoy Manor_

Snape and his companion, Yaxley, stepped into the drawing room, which had been made over into a conference room. A long, ornate conference table stood in the middle of the otherwise unfurnished room. The only source of illumination coming from the fireplace set into the far wall, its ornate marble mantle surmounted by a large mirror in a gilded frame. The others, including a nervous looking, light haired youth, had already seated themselves around the table. Above it, an inert human figure was suspended, up side down, slowly rotating as from a nonexistent rope. No one, save for the youth, seemed to be paying any attention, as though this was a common, ordinary sight.

Standing in front of the fireplace, face concealed in shadow, the tall, slender figure greeted in a high, clear tone.

"'Bout damn time you two showed up. You were nearly late, and you know how I regard tardiness. Severus, how about you sit here?", Voldemort indicated a vacant chair. "Yaxley, you sit beside Severus". The two took their places.

"So", began Lord Voldemort, "I am not entirely pleased with the outcome of this latest fiasco at Hogwart's". Did Voldemort shoot a glance of disapproval at the white haired youth?

"I send in ten good Death Eaters, and only one comes out alive. Fenrir Grayback, Alecto Carrow, Amycus Carrow - need I go on? All burnt to cinders. A dark dragon, a were-fox, that bird creature, and now this silver fox that no one seems to know anything about keep interfering with my plans and costing me dedicated followers. And, Severus, don't tell me this has anything to do with Dumbledore, as we both know that is not possible. Isn't that right, Severus?"

"My Lord, I have good reason to believe we aren't up against as many of these creatures as you might at first think. The dark dragon from the Department of Mysteries, the fox at Hogwart's, and Impmon are all one and the same. As for Renamon, I don't know and he hasn't been seen since the Brockdale Bridge. As for how Impmon and his companion gained entry into Hogwart's, Dumbledore and this boy were working together, and with Pot-ter and his associates. As improbable as it may seem, these digimon really do exist somehow, and in more substantial form than as simple cartoon characters".

Snape was careful to make no mention of the Digital World. If Voldemort figured this was muggle technology, he would never bring himself to see it as a possible threat.

"How is such a thing possible?"

"I have an idea about that: the muggles have found some means through technology to bring these characters to life. Towards the end of his life, Albus believed that muggle technology was poised to overtake magic..."

This last comment elicited many surprised and shocked gasps, and murmuring. Snape was pleased to see that: his misdirection was subtle enough to go unnoticed.

"Silence!", Voldemort ordered. "Continue Severus, who are these muggles who seem to be consorting with these creatures?"

"They call themselves the 'Digimon Mentors'. It has something to do with their computers that they use to play this video game. I believe it's called a 'hologram'. These muggle kids seem to be under the impression that it's just a more elaborate version of that game. Furthermore, Dumbledore also believed that soon this technology would allow the muggles to detect the existence of magic".

Snape hoped that the Dark Lord was as much in the dark regarding technology as he. Snape understood some of the tech-speak, but little more. The Wizarding World just was not interested in anything muggle. That Voldemort held muggles in even greater contempt than the mudbloods worked in his favour.

"Do you agree?"

"That muggles could be developing formidable new technologies? Yes My Lord, I do agree. That they should be permitted to do so, no, My Lord, definitely not".

"How do they survive the Avada Kadavra?"

"You know how that works? It separates the soul from the body. Digimon don't have souls, as we understand the term. Digimon have something similar, called a 'digicore'. More than that, I do not know. Also, they have what are called 'digivolutions', so when the dragon was struck with the Killing Curse, it ceased to be, but Impmon survived".

"The subjugation of muggles and the suppression of their technology is all that more imperative for our very survival. It's bad enough that they steal our magic through blood pollution, wouldn't you agree?"

"Very much so, My Lord".

"I would like it very much if you would bring me this Mentor and his digimon. I'm sure the Cruciatus will convince him to be most enlightening on this subject". There were scattered sniggers from around the table. "Then, I have something special in mind to teach these meddlesome Mentors a lesson about the inadvisability to attack my Death Eaters. How much of a threat are these Mentors?"

"There are only two we've identified, My Lord: this Jadin Weston and one of the students at the muggle highschool he was attending after leaving Hogwart's. As to the identity of this Mentor, as you already know, members of the Order wiped the memories of the surviving Death Eaters".

"Then how do you explain why they interested Dumbledore so?"

"My Lord, Albus always had a weakness for wayward boys. This Jadin Weston recently arrived from the United States, into a country where he knows no one, and no one knows him. It must've been a lonely experience for him. Consider how Dumbledore fawned over Pot-ter: a lonely orphan. It wouldn't surprise me to discover that there was something... more to those relationships...", more sniggers.

"Before I was so rudely interrupted", Snape raised his voice, the sniggers died away instantly, "it could also be explained as an act of pure desperation on his part. I have always known that Pot-ter's abilities are no more than routinely mediocre. I tried to teach him occlumency, and he was absolutely pathetic. Albus could not have failed to notice that he didn't live up to his reputation as the 'Chosen One'. I have had him as a student of Potions, and now Defense Against the Dark Arts. Had it not been for the intervention of Dumbledore and McGonagall, or the timely arrival of my replacement, Professor Slughorn, he would _never_ have gotten into the Auror Program on his own merits. Slughorn's requirement for NEWT-level instruction are laxer than mine.

"Every success Pot-ter has had up till now has come about either through pure luck and/or the intervention of his more talented peers, especially Hermione Granger or Dumbledore himself. None of this would have escaped Dumbledore's awareness".

"I quite agree, Potter has been quite lucky, but his luck is about to run out. He will be of age quite soon, and will lose most of his protection. What plans have they made?", Voldemort asked.

Snape was relieved to be getting off this subject, and was careful to conceal it. "I have it on good authority that the Order of the Phoenix has plans to move Pot-ter to a safe house this Saturday night..."

There was much renewed interest, and more murmuring around the table. Some sat up straighter, others fixed Snape and Voldemort with intensified concentration.

"This Saturday night...", Voldemort repeated. He gazed at Snape so intensely that others looked away, lest they be consumed with the ferocity of that gaze. Snape looked back into Voldemort's eyes calmly. After a moment or so, Voldemort's lip-less mouth curved into something resembling a smile. "Very good. And this information comes from..."

"From the source we discussed on a previous occasion".

"My Lord?", it was Yaxley. He leaned forward, all eyes on him. "My Lord, I heard differently". He waited, but Voldemort said nothing, so he continued: "The auror, Dawlish, let slip that Potter won't be moved until the 30th. That's the night the boy comes of age".

Snape was smiling: "My source assures me that the Order made plans to mislead, so this must be it. No doubt that a Confundus Charm has been put on Dawlish. After all, it's known he has a particular susceptibility to that charm..."

"I assure you: Dawlish seemed quite positive..."

"If he'd been Confunded, of course he would. _I_ can assure _you_ that the Auror Office will not be playing any further role in safe guarding Pot-ter. The Order already suspects the Ministry has been compromised. They are now a lone wolf operation".

"The Order finally got something right", a squat man sitting a few places to Yaxley's right commented with a chuckle that was echoed in a few places around the table. Voldemort didn't laugh. Instead, he watched with contemplation the figure suspended above the table.

"Dawlish believes that a contingent of aurors will be used to transport the boy...", Yaxley continued to insist until Voldemort held up a white hand, silencing him instantly.

"Where is this safe house?", Voldemort asked.

"Indubitably, it will be the home of one of the Order. The place, according to my source, is being equipped with every protective charm the order and Ministry can install. Unless the Ministry falls by Saturday, it won't be possible to get at him once he arrives. If the Ministry does fall, then we can possibly discover the location, disarm enough of the protection to allow us to break through the rest. Otherwise, Pot-ter will have to be intercepted en route", Snape replied.

"Will the Ministry fall by next Saturday?", Voldemort asked Yaxley.

"On that score... I have some good news. At great risk to myself, and after much effort, I was able to put Pius Thicknesse under the Imperious".

There were looks and words of approval and congratulations.

"That is all well and good, but Pius is but one individual, and Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt to take the Ministry will set me back by years, if not the rest of the decade".

"Yes, My Lord, that is true, but Thicknesse is head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and as such, has regular access to Scrimgeour and the heads of other departments. With him under our control, we can use him to subvert the other department heads. Then Scrimgeour _will_ be surrounded, and can be brought down.

"We also have our agents in place within the transportation department, so if Potter uses the Floo Network, or apparates, we shall be informed of it immediately".

"Except Pot-ter will use neither. The Order doesn't trust the security of any means of transport the Ministry controls and/or monitors", Snape added.

"So much the better", Voldemort explained. "He will have to move in the open, making it all the easier to intercept him".

Again Voldemort turned his attention to the suspended form. "I shall attend to the boy myself. There have been far too many errors where Harry Potter is concerned. That Potter still lives has been due more to my mistakes than to his triumphs".

Those gathered at the table looked around apprehensively. None could be certain that this wasn't a prelude to another explosion of temper and blame placed on one or more of their number for Potter's continuing longevity. However, Voldemort seemed to be addressing himself more than at anyone seated at the conference table.

"I have been careless, and therefore thwarted by luck and chance: those twin destroyers of even the best laid plans. But I know better now; I understand those things I didn't understand before, and I must be the one who kills Potter... and I shall".

As though a reaction to these words, a wail of pain and torment filtered up from the basement: a long, drawn out cry of pure misery.

"Wormtail, what did I tell you about keeping our guest quiet?", Voldemort asked in displeasure.

"Yyyyes, My Lord. Right away".

Seated about half way down the table, a little man sat so low as to make the casual viewer believe the seat to be vacant scrambled from his seat and scuttled from the room, leaving behind nothing more substantial than a brief flash of something silvery.

Voldemort turned his attention to his assembled guests: "As I was saying, I understand better now. If I am to be done with the boy, I shall need to borrow a wand from one of you".

The others looked on, shocked. Voldemort waited.

"No volunteers? Let's see... Lucius, old friend. I see no reason why you should be needing a wand".

Lucius Malfoy looked up. His complexion looking yellowish and waxy in the firelight, his eyes sunken and shallow.

"My Lord?", he asked, his voice sounding hoarse.

"Your wand, Lucius, I require your wand".

Lucius glanced sideways at his wife, who sat straight up, her eyes looking straight ahead at nothing in particular. Beneath the table, her grip on his hand tightened. Lucius responded by withdrawing his wand from a pocket, and he handed it to Voldemort. He examined it closely.

"What is it?", Voldemort asked.

"Elm", Lucius replied. "With a dragon heart string core, My Lord"

"Excellent", Voldemort said, as he drew his own wand for comparison. Lucius made a brief motion as if to take Voldemort's wand, believing that he would be given it in exchange. Voldemort noticed.

"Give you my wand, Lucius? _My_ wand?"

There were scattered chuckles and sniggers from around the table.

"Lucius, I have already given you your liberty, and your life. Is that not enough for you? Also, I notice that some of your family seem less than pleased to have me as their house guest. What is it about my presence here that displeases you?"

"Nothing... nothing My Lord!"

Voldemort sighed: "Such _lies_, Lucius. Why do the Malfoys seem so unhappy with their lot? Isn't my return, my rise to power, the very thing they desired for years now?"

With an unmistakable hissing, Voldemort's pet snake was joining them, as she climbed Voldemort's now vacant chair, then slithered along the table top, seemingly endless, as she wrapped a neck as thick as a man's thigh around Voldemort's shoulders. He stroked the serpent's head affectionately with his long fingers.

"We did desire it... we _do_ desire it!", Lucius insisted.

To Lucius' left, his wife gave a strange, stiff nod of the head. To his right, Draco continued looking up at the inert figure, then towards Voldemort, then quickly away.

"My Lord", a dark woman, eyes with thick lids, black hair, her voice constricted by emotion, "it is an honour to have you here in our home. There can be no greater pleasure". She sat next to her sister, as unlike in looks, as in demeanor.

"No greater pleasure, eh?", Voldemort said. "That means a great deal, coming from you, Bellatrix". Was he being sarcastic? she couldn't tell.

"I speak nothing but the truth", she insisted.

"No greater pleasure... even when compared to the happy event that took place earlier this week?", Voldemort asked.

Bellatrix looked on, confused: "My Lord?"

"I'm talking about your niece, Bella, and yours Lucius and Narcissa: her marriage to the werewolf: Remus Lupin. You must be soooo proud"

There was an eruption of laughter this time, as it was apparent that Voldemort had intended comedy. Bellatrix, once looking so happy, her face turned a blotchy red out of anger at the betrayal of being made the butt of Voldemort's joke, and embarrassment over having her niece's indiscretion aired in public.

"My Lord", Bellatrix said over the laughter, "she is no niece of ours! We, Narcissa and I, have not laid eyes on her since that... marriage to that mudblooded werewolf. That bitch has _nothing_ to do with us, nor any beast she marries".

"How about you, Draco, will you babysit the cubs?"

The laughter increased in intensity. Draco looked to his father, but he had his head down. His mother gave him an almost imperceptible head shake, and resumed staring at the opposite wall.

"Enough... enough", Voldemort commanded. The laughter ceased at once. "Our oldest family trees accumulate dead wood over the years and centuries". Bellatrix looked on breathless and imploring. "You must prune yours, must you not, to keep the rest of the tree healthy?"

"Yes, My Lord", Bellatrix whispered in agreement. "At the first chance!", she announced, her eyes filling with tears of gratitude at this small concession.

"And so you shall", Voldemort promised. "As in your family, so in the world. This cancer that eats away at us must be cut out, so that only those of the true blood remain".

Voldemort raised Lucius' wand, and gave it a flick. The inert figure groaned and began to fight against the invisible bonds. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?", he asked.

Snape raised his eyes, along with the rest of the Death Eaters, realizing they'd been given permission to be curious. As the upside down face rotated towards the fire: "Severus! Help me! Do something!"

"Ah, yes", he agreed.

"Draco?", Voldemort asked, as he continued stroking his pet's snout.

Draco shook his head stiffly, no longer desiring to look at her, now that she was conscious again.

"You would not have taken her class", Voldemort said, before announcing: "Tonight we are joined by our special guest: Miss Charity Burbage, who until recently was on the faculty of Hogwart's School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, for those of you who don't know".

There were quiet murmurs of understanding from around the table. One hunched old woman with pointed teeth cackled.

"Yes", Voldemort continued, "Professor Burbage taught the sons and daughters of magi all about muggles: how they're really not so different from us..." Voldemort counted off the offenses. "How they are to be admired, yes, _admired_ for their scientific and technological prowess... how they are _deserving_ of respect and consideration from their superiors, and how we're all one big, happy family".

One of the Death Eaters made a display of spitting on the floor. Burbage was coming around to face Snape again: "Severus... please! Please!"

"Silence!", Voldemort commanded, and flicked the wand again. Charity fell silent.

"As I was explaining, not content to corrupt and poison the minds of magical children, Miss Burbage saw fit to submit an essay to the _Daily Prophet_. It was a passionate defense of the Mudbloods in our midst. She said that magi should accept these thieves of our knowledge and our magic with open arms. That the rise of Mudbloods at the expense of true blood families is a _good thing_. She would have all of us mate with muggles... and, no doubt, commit bestiality with werewolves".

This time, no laughter. There was no doubt as to the anger and contempt in Voldemort's voice. For the third time, she rotated into Snape's view. She could say nothing, but the tears flowed backwards into her hair. This time, Snape said nothing, as he looked on dispassionately.

"Strip her naked", Voldemort ordered. The hands of these hideous Death Eaters tore and ripped her clothing, all the while laughing with glee. Seconds later, bits and pieces of her clothes lay scattered all around the conference table.

"Avada Kadavra!". The room briefly lit up in green light. Charity fell with a resounding thud onto the conference table. Several of the Death Eaters leaped back in their chairs. Draco fell out of his.

"Din din, Nagini", Voldemort said, as the snake slipped off his shoulders, and onto the polished table top. The jaws unhinged, and Charity Burbage began to disappear, head first, down the extensible gullet.

_12 Grimmauld Place_

Three unexpected visitors, one whom Cecelia recognized by name only, Bill Weasley, had arrived. This time, uncharacteristically by day light. She was not prepared to see the end result of a werewolf attack. The other by reputation: Fleur Delacour, Bill's fiance. The third introduced himself as Daedalus Diggle - whom neither Jadin, nor his parents had ever met.

"I don't understand", Cecelia sobbed. "_Why_ must you take Jadin away? Where are you taking us?"

Daedalus explained: "It isn't safe here anymore. Albus was our Secret Keeper, but since his death, every member of the Order automatically became Secret Keepers. If you don't know how the Fidelius works, only the Secret Keeper can reveal the location of the protected area or building. Should one of our number be taken captive by the enemy, he could crack under torture, or the Ligilmens spell, and reveal this house as the headquarters of the Order. We can no longer be certain of its protection, as this protection has been greatly diluted.

"It's bad enough that Hewhomustnotbenamed knows about this house since wills are public records, and there is no secret that Mr. Potter was the inheritor. He is sure to expect that this house is the headquarters.

"Mr. Weston, Mrs. Weston: it is not my intention to unduly alarm you, but you _are_ in danger. Hewhomustnotbenamed will have no compunctions against coming after you to get to Jadin. You need to trust us: we can hide you, keep you safe, and do our best to see that no harm comes to either Jadin or his partner. We already have made arrangements for Harry Potter's aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon. You will be traveling with them. Then we will escort Jadin, Impmon, and Harry to a safe house where they can't be touched. I realize this is a lot to accept all at once, but we wouldn't be doing this unless we believed it necessary".

"_Why_ can't he come with us?", Cecelia persisted.

"Mom, Dad: it'll be alright..."

"Jadin: stay out of this!", Dirk ordered.

"It's better if you are not together in one place. It is for this reason that Mr. Potter won't be joining the Dursleys either..."

"I get the distinct impression I'm being fed a line of bullshit here", Dirk counter argued. "It seems to me that you would rather use Jadin and his partner to help you win this internal battle that's basically none of our business: we're not part of your world; we're not British subjects either. Seems the most logical thing to do is return to America... It sounds like you're using Harry as well. Using kids: you should be ashamed of yourselves".

"I can assure you, Mr. Weston, it's not like that at all. I would also remind you that it is very much your fight too...", Daedalus replied.

"Then why aren't you taking this up with the Army, or MI-6, or the Queen, or whoever the hell it is in this country who has the authority..."

"Hewhomustnotbenamed and his Death Eaters are slaughtering muggles right now. They regard muggles as game animals to be hunted for pure sport. Haven't you noticed the reports of these murders that occur, yet Scotland Yard can name no suspects? The derailments that occur under perfect weather conditions and on well maintained rails that baffle the transportation authorities? The bizarre 'accidents' (finger quotes) on the highways as cars steer themselves into oncoming traffic? And, yes, Mr. Weston, the plane crashes.

"As for muggle authorities, there are two very big problems. First, would they believe us? Would _you_ believe it if you had been told that magic, wizards, witches, really do exist? Secondly, muggle authorities can be easily neutralized with the Imperious Curse.

"I'm not gonna try to tell you that Impmon's fighting ability, or the fact that your son controls that, are of no interest to us. Just as we can't tell you that our interest in young Mr. Potter has nothing to do with the fact that a Seer predicted that he would be the one to defeat Hewhomustnotbenamed. That doesn't lessen our determination to see to their safety...", Daedalus explained.

"Then see Jadin safely onto an airliner".

"And what makes you so certain that that airliner will ever be allowed to reach its destination? Hewhomustnotbenamed would be pleased to send your son and 200 other innocent passengers plummeting into the North Atlantic. He seeks retribution for those of his followers whom Impmon has already killed and injured. It would remove one obstacle, and don't think for an instant that he wouldn't. If we did as you suggest, we could very well be signing Jadin's death warrant".

Cecelia sobbed with renewed vigour at hearing that.

"This isn't getting any of us anywhere", Jadin reassured. "I'll be OK. I trust the Order as I trust Impmon: they won't let anything happen to me".

Impmon put in his contribution: "I kicked Death Eater ass before, and I'll do it again. _No one_ fucks with _my_ partner".

"How can you be so _sure_?"

"Mom, I'll be a lot safer with these guys than I'd ever be outside. I didn't plan on anything like this either, yannow. I'm not so pleased at how things have been working out lately. Can you tell me, can you _honestly_ tell me, that what they are saying doesn't make a good deal of sense? I thought you liked the Weasleys, and the Grangers? What about Hermione's parents? You know Hermione is up to her pretty hazel eyeballs in this, and all I've got is a toe in the water. Aren't they sending Hermione into hiding too? Don't _you_ think that _I_ want to see you safe? To not be as worried about your safety as you are of mine? You've been here long enough to see for yourself, to know as few other people do. You can't run away, and the usual authorities can't protect you. Only the Order of the Phoenix and every one of its members who take great chances with their own well-being to ensure ours can do that".

Jadin turned to Bill and Fleur: "OK, so how're we goin'?" It was clear that Jadin had ended this conversation. His parents couldn't deny the truth of what they'd been told.

"Thestrals. We brought along two. They're out back".

"We really should be going", Daedalus prompted. "We're already running late, and the longer we delay, the greater the danger".

Cecelia and Dirk followed Bill, Fleur, Jadin and Impmon to the door leading into what looked to Cecelia and Dirk an empty backyard.

"I don't see anything", Dirk said. He looked around, perplexed.

"You gotta be kidding me: you can't see that", Jadin pointed at nothing. "And that", his finger moved over. "They're bigger than a breadbox...", then he remembered. "You haven't seen death, have you?"

"Noooo?", Cecelia replied. Then a horrible thought occurred to her: "Have... you... Jadin?"

"I was there at Hogwart's when Professor Dumbledore...", he couldn't make himself say it.

"Oh God!", Cecelia protested. "I wish we'd _never_ come to this damn country!".

Dirk looked on, ashen faced. He, too, didn't like the fact that Jadin had experienced a loss of this magnitude, or even the loss of a family pet. Dirk, too, had been spared this, as both of Jadin's grandparents were still alive and well.

Jadin walked over to the animal with the head of a dorugremon, the wings of a devidramon, and the body of a skin-and-bones, emaciated horse his parents couldn't see. The coat was blacker than the blackest velvet Jadin had ever seen. Jadin offered his hand so that the thestral could get his scent, as he stroked the neck, and talked softly:

"Hey big fella, don't know your name, or even if you have one, but we sure do appreciate the ride". The thestral responded with a rub against Jadin with its bladeless snout, as it looked back with one silver eye. As if receiving the thestral's permission, Jadin grabbed onto the long, black mane, and swung himself up. The thestral swayed a bit, as he adjusted to the additional weight. Then he looked back though that silvery eye. Jadin reached down and patted his neck. The boney spine would not make this a comfortable journey. Then, again, a broomstick between the legs would have been a helluvalot less comfy. He offered a hand to Impmon, and pulled him onto the thestral's back, seated in front.

Bill and Fleur came up: "You've ridden thestrals before?", Bill asked. It was his intention that one would take Jadin, the other Impmon. It was good to see that Jadin wasn't afraid of these unusual creatures, as that had been one of their concerns.

"I've ridden horses, and it can't be all that different? Except for the leaving the ground part, that is".

"Don't worry, just hang on. Thestrals have an excellent sense of direction, so you won't have to do much more than hang on..."

"I remember Hagrid mentioned that".

Dirk and Cecelia came over: "You keep your head down, son", Dirk said.

"You got it", Jadin replied, offering his hand.

"I'll take good care of him", Impmon promised.

"Be careful", Cecelia said, as Jadin leaned down to give her a hug.

"See you in a bit", he replied. "You should probably stand back before we take off".

Bill was helping Fleur onto the other thestral, then swung up as had Jadin.

"Where to?", Jadin called out.

"Privet Drive", Bill replied.

With that, Bill's thestral spread its wings. Jadin made clicking sounds with his tongue as he nudged the thestral's sides with his feet. Cecelia gave a wave, which Jadin returned, as the thestral spread its wings, gave a small leap, as the wings began to beat at the air. Both thestrals climbed at a prodigious rate. Jadin's thestral fell in behind Bill's and Fleur's. For once, Jadin wished he'd copied the main characters of _Digimon Adventure_ and "Zero Two": goggles would've come in handy right about now.

Daedalus escorted Cecelia and Dirk to Vernon's waiting SUV: "Vernon, Petunia Dursley - Dirk and Cecelia Weston: Jadin's mother and father. And this is Dudley". Vernon didn't seem too pleased with this situation, and Petunia and Dudley did their best to make up for that.

"So you're Jadin's parents?", Dudley offered.

"You know Jadin?", Cecelia asked.

"We met once, when he saved us from those dementors".

_4 Privet Drive_

They were on "final approach" to what looked like a vacant backyard, thanks to Disillusionment Charms. The thestral touched down to a soft landing. Now he could see that they were not alone, nor the first to arrive. Hagrid, Fred, George, Arthur and Ron Weasley were there. So was Mad Eye. Remus Lupin, looking far older and greyer than he should, stood by Tonks. Hermione ran up, giving Jadin and Impmon smothering hugs.

"I can't say I'm happy to see you, this is going to be dangerous, but we appreciate your coming, and your help".

"It's _always_ good to see you", Jadin replied.

"Sorry we're late", Bill explained, "had a bit of a reticence problem".

"Kingsley, I thought you were supposed to be guarding the Muggle Prime Minister?", Harry called out.

"He can get by without me for one night. Besides, you're more important".

"So Jadin, your folks let you out?", Harry asked. "I heard about the Death Eaters at the muggle school, and I thought it was you right off. Thought your parents would be on the first flight out".

"None too happy about it, but they know there's nothing else we can do".

"Hey Harry!", Tonks called out from her perch on the washing machine, as she held up her left hand, waving her fingers.

"You and Remus got married!", he almost squealed.

"Sorry you couldn't be there, but it was a quiet ceremony".

"That's brilliant. Congrat..."

He was cut off by Moody's booming voice: "All right, all right: sorry to break up this reunion, but you all can catch up later. Right now, we have business to discuss. "As Daedalus probably told you by now, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over to the other side. He's made rulings that make it an imprison-able offense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or to apparate either in or out. He says this is to prevent Youknowwho from gaining access, but that's a load of bull. The charms already installed do all of that".

Mad Eye seemed to finish his announcement, as he turned to address Harry.

"Harry: what he's done is to turn this house into a trap. Second problem: you are underage, and you still have a Tracer on you. If you, or anyone near you, casts a spell, Thicknesse will know about it, and maybe a second later, so will the Death Eaters. We can't wait for the Tracer to break, since that will also mean that your mother's protective charms also break. And they'll be waiting..."

"So what can you do?", Harry asked.

"We need to use transportation that the Tracer can't detect, that doesn't involve spells: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorcycle. Your mother's charms will break under two conditions: you come of age, or you no longer call this place home". Mad Eye swept his arm around the kitchen.

"You, your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight. Do you understand that you will never live here again?"

"Yes", Harry nodded.

"Even if you drop by for a visit, you will only be endangering them... and yourself. Are we clear on this?"

"I understand".

"The charm will break as soon as we cross the perimeter. We're going to break it early since the only alternative is to wait until you turn seventeen, and Youknowwho will be waiting to come after you. The one thing we have in our favour is that he doesn't know we're leaving tonight. The Order has been feeding misinformation to the Ministry that we're going the evening of the 30th. However, this is Youknowwho we're talking about, and we can't rely on his getting a date wrong. You can be sure that there's surveillance in place, as he wouldn't let that to just chance. He may be a lot of things, but stupid isn't among them.

What we've done is take a dozen houses and throw every protection we can think of at them. All are connected to the Order - my place, Tonks' parents' place, Ron's Aunt Muriel, Kingsley's - well, you get the idea. Any one could be the safe house where you're going. You're going to Tonks'. Once you're within its protective perimeter, you take a Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?"

"Actually, yes, won't it be a bit obvious where we're going once we all break for Tonks' house?"

"I see you've noticed that little problem. Harry, we won't all be going to Tonks' place. We're going to split up, and so far as anyone could tell, there will be seven Harry's, each headed towards a different safe house".

Moody pulled out a bottle of what looked like mud. Harry understood at once: "No way. You're _not_ doing that!"

"I told him you'd say that", Hermione said.

"If you think I'm gonna just let six people risk their lives...", Harry started to protest.

"Yeah, like it's the first time that ever happened", Ron countered.

"This is different: pretending to be me, to make yourselves into decoys... I _won't_ allow it!"

"Well, some of us don't exactly fancy the idea either", Fred added. "What if something goes wrong? Then we might all be four-eyed, scrawny gits for the rest of our lives".

"You need hair, and if I don't give you any..."

"Oh well, that plan's scuppered", George said, "it's not like we couldn't get a bit of your hair without your complete co-operation".

"Thirteen to one against one who can't use magic outside of Hogwart's, yeah, we have no chance", Fred agreed.

"Very amusing", Harry retorted.

"If it comes to using force", Moody explained, "then so be it..."

"We have another problem: we're one 'Harry' short", Arthur announced. "That Mundungus Fletcher chickened out..."

"I'll do it", Jadin offered.

"All of us", Moody made a sweeping gesture around the room, "are overage. You and Potter are not..."

"Potter may not be, but since I'm not a wizard, your rules don't apply to me. If you don't need our help, then Impmon and I will walk out the door and keep going. Mom and dad wanted to get out of Dodge, and I'm sure they'll be delighted that I 'came to my senses', and we'll take the first flight out of London..."

"It's not your responsibility as you pointed out: you're not a wizard".

"I'm still volunteering. You wanted our help, otherwise, what the fuck are we doing here in the first place? Or is it that you just wanted to borrow Impmon? I can assure you: that was a _big_ miscalculation on your part; I go where Impmon goes".

"That goes for me too", Impmon agreed. "You bought the whole package, Mad Eye".

"All right. We don't have time for any more arguing. I need some hair", Moody said.

"But this is mad, there's no..."

"Now!", Moody demanded. "Our only chance is to use decoys. Not even Youknowwho can split himself seven ways".

Harry, Hermione, Jadin and Impmon exchanged knowing glances, but Moody didn't see that, not even with the "cybernetic" eye.

Harry finally reached up and pulled a few strands of hair free. Moody limped forward, and pulled the stopper from the flask: "Straight in here, if you please".

As soon as the hairs hit the liquid, it began to froth up and emit white vapors, as though a vigorous chemical reaction was starting. Suddenly, the entire volume turned a clear golden color.

"Fake Potters line up here", Moody commanded, as Ron, Hermione, George, Fred, Fleur, and Jadin lined up. Moody took out six eggcup shaped glasses, and distributed them with a dose of the Polyjuice.

"All together, then..." They all drank the potion in one gulp. All of them gasped and grimaced. It was hideous stuff. At once, their features began to bubble and distort like melting wax. Hermione gained a few inches; Ron, Fred, and George lost a few, and their hair was darkening. Jadin's hair also darkened, but he didn't require much of a height adjustment.

"Jadimon evolve!", Impmon laughed. Other than Harry and Hermione, no one else knew why he said that, or why he thought it funny.

Moody was loosening the draw strings on another bag, and when he had finished, there stood six replicas of the real Harry Potter. Moody distributed identical attire, and all six Harry's changed into the matching outfits. Harry, himself, was none too pleased, as it seemed to him that they were a good deal less careful about his modesty than he would have been. Or as careful with their own.

"Don't forget the glasses: there are six pairs in the side pocket. There's luggage in the other pack: don't forget that either. Each took out a rucksack like the one Harry had, and an identical bird cage, each containing a stuffed snowy owl.

"We'll pair up as follows: Hermione will be with me, by broom. Arthur and Fred, Remus and George, Miss Delacour..."

"I'm taking Fleur on a thestral", Bill explained. "Fleur never could get the hang of broom riding".

"Jadin with Kingsley, also by thestral..."

"That leaves just you and me", Tonks told Ron.

"An' yerr widme, Harry. Thah al-rye?", Hagrid said. "We'll beawn ter bike; brooms and thestrals canna take me weight, see. Nodda lodda room, so's yer ridin ter sidecaw"

"Great", Harry said, but without much conviction.

"We figger ter Deaf Eaters'll be specktin yer'll be onna broom, bein thah dey know yer hist'ry uh bein uh Seeker. If we run interr any Deaf Eaters, we speck dey'll concentrate onna Harry whut looks at home on a broom. Al-rye, den", he went on, taking the sack with the fake Potters' clothes, leading the way out back. "I make it t'ree minutes entil we go. No sense in lockin' ter door; it woan keep ow Deaf Eaters innyways".

Harry ran off to collect his Firebolt, rucksack, and Hedwig's cage before joining the others in the backyard. He almost missed it.

One "Potter" was holding up some strange device that looked nothing like anything these magi had were familiar with. He pulled out a blue card, instead of a wand. Both looked oddly out of place in "Potter's" hands. All eyes were upon him, fascinated. Not knowing what to expect.

"Ready, Impmon?"

"Let's do this!"

"Matrix Evolution!"

The golden Light of Evolution appeared to surround, and radiate from within Impmon as he seemed to go translucent. Once again, he disappeared inside that egg that crackled with electricity.

_Impmon evolve! ..._

**... CYBERDRAMON!**

Except for Harry and Hermione, none of these magi had ever actually witnessed digivolution.

"How did he..."

"What was that?"

"Muggle... magic?"

"Is there such a thing?"

"Knock it off!", Moody commanded. "There'll be time enough for show 'n' tell later. Right now, we have a job to do, and you need to pay attention to the task at hand".

"Is this it? Sirius' bike?", Harry asked as he crammed his rucksack and Firebolt into the sidecar. He had to hold Hedwig's cage between his knees. It was not comfortable. In more ways than one: at least a sidecar was slightly more manly than riding bitch.

"Ter very sayme", Hagrid said, as he threw a leg with a thigh the diameter of a trash can laboriously over the seat. "Arthur's dun a bit uv tink'rin", he explained, not noticing Harry's discomfort. "Thah one's my ideer", he said, as he pointed to a purple button just beneath the speedometer. "Mine an Impmon's, after seein whuh he dunn when he wuz chasin Snape".

Part of Arthur's modifications was the installation of the heaviest duty springs he could find, and an extra set of shocks.

"I'm still not convinced that was such a good idea", Arthur explained as he stood by, broomstick in hand. "Certainly not meant for use except in extreme emergencies".

"All right, then", Moody called out. "I want everyone to go at the same time, otherwise, the point of the diversion will be lost. Get ready".

Broomsticks were mounted, Hagrid turned over the bike's engine, thestrals readied themselves to take off.

"Good luck", Moody called out. "See you all in about an hour. On the count of three. One... two... THREE!"

Hagrid gunned the engine, popped the clutch, and threw Harry back against the seat, as the motorcycle left the ground. Around him, brooms were soaring past, a long black tail of a thestral flashed by. He spotted a dark grey digimon dragon ascending fast, beating his wings hard. By the time it took for him to decide to have one last look at 4 Privet Drive, he was too high to tell which house it was. Harry's legs started to feel like they were going numb, so filled was the sidecar not meant to carry luggage and a passenger.

Still higher they climbed, until they found themselves surrounded and boxed in as they ascended straight into an ambush: a circle formed by at least 30 black-hooded figures. Screams, flashes of green light on every side. It was as Moody had feared: they'd been watching and waiting. Hagrid rolled the motorcycle over, and Harry quickly became disoriented: streetlights above him, yells coming from every direction, and he had to cling to the sidecar for dear life. His rucksack, Firebolt, and Hedwig's cage slipped from his grip.

"No! HEDWIG!", he barely caught the handle of the cage, and the strap of the rucksack, but lost the Firebolt.

Somewhere above, Cyberdramon was powering up his attack.

"Erase claw!", he struck, and Harry watched as several Death Eaters ceased moving, then dissolved into nothingness. Hagrid saw too, and immediately powered through the break that Cyberdramon had opened in the encirclement before the other Death Eaters had seen. Others gave chase, intent on firing curses and jinxes at the fleeing bike...

"Erase claw!", Hagrid watched in the rear view mirrors as four more Death Eaters dissolved into nothingness. It was only then that Harry saw the first curses flying at Cyberdramon, who dodged the bursts of green.

"Hedwig!", Harry called out. "Hedwig! No!", but the owl lay motionless on the bottom of her cage. She'd taken a hit from a Killing Curse. He couldn't worry about that now, as he was terrified for the others. Looking back, he saw figures against the night sky, flashes of green, and bursts looking nothing like any curse of jinx: Cyberdramon's Erase Claw.

"Hagrid, we have to go back!", Harry called out. Not believing that Hedwig was gone, he shoved the cage to the bottom of the car. "Hagrid: TURN AROUND!"

"My job's ter getchu ter dere safe, Harry!", Hagrid bellowed back, as he opened the throttle wider.

"Stop!", he called out. "STOP!", he was desperate to help the others, but Hagrid wouldn't hear of it. Green light shot past, missing the car narrowly. Four more Death Eaters had broken off to give chase. They were obviously aiming for Hagrid's broad, and unprotected, back. Hagrid swerved, but the Death Eaters kept up; more curses flew past, too close for comfort. Harry wriggled around, wand at the ready: "Stupify!", he shot red light that missed, but served the purpose of making these Death Eaters back off.

"Hole awn, Harry, dis'll do ferrem", as he pressed one of Arthur's buttons. A brick wall erupted from one of the bike's exhaust stacks. Harry watched as it expanded into being; three Death Eaters swerved to miss it, but a fourth wasn't so lucky. He dropped like a rock, his broomstick shattered to toothpicks. One of the others dropped back to see if he could do anything. The remaining two continued to pursue, firing curses. Harry fired back more stunning spells, and a burst of red intercepted a burst of green. The result was an explosion, showers of sparks. Harry thought of fireworks, and muggles far below who wouldn't know what they were seeing.

"Here we go again, Harry", Hagrid said as he deployed another of Arthur's tricks. This time, a large net blossomed from the opposite tail pipe. This time, the Death Eaters were anticipating something like this, and all avoided it. Useless. Making matters even worse, the third Death Eater was catching up.

"Dis'll do it; hole on tie!", Hagrid called out, as he pressed the purple button. With a bellowing roar, foxfire shot from the twin exhaust stacks and the bike accelerated with such force that the coupling began to shear. Harry saw the Death Eaters break off to avoid the twin columns of flame, at the same time he felt the sidecar begin to sway ominously.

"Iss al-rye", Hagrid reassured, though he was flat on his back, as the bike flew on. "I'm onnit", as pulled out the pink, flowery umbrella that concealed an illegal wand. Ever since he was accused of releasing the Beast of Slytherin, been kicked out of Hogwart's, had his wand unceremoniously confiscated and broken by a Ministry official, Hagrid was prohibited from performing magic. It was part of the plea deal that kept him out of Azkaban.

"No, Hagrid, let me"

"REPARO!"

Harry felt the side car tear free, now propelled forward by momentum only. The car began to nose downwards. He pointed his wand at the car: "Wingardium Leviosa!".

The side car at least ceased to lose altitude, though was not steerable nor controllable, and definitely not designed for flight. More curses streaked past. Three Death Eaters were back, and knew he was a sitting duck.

"Ah'm comin', Harry!", Hagrid called out from somewhere.

Harry aimed at the trio: "Impedmentia!", he fired, hitting the center Death Eater in the chest. The man went spread eagled, as if he'd just hit a transparent barrier. Harry thought of Wile E. Coyote for some reason. One of his companions almost hit him. The remaining Death Eater came so close with a curse that, to avoid it, Harry had to duck into the falling sidecar so fast that he knocked out a tooth on the edge.

"Gotcha!", a huge hand was pulling him from the sidecar, as he just had time to grab onto the rucksack. Harry found himself seated back-to-back with Hagrid. As they soared upward, Harry spit out blood, and aimed at the now useless side car: "Confringo!", he called out. It exploded, and the force of the blast sent one Death Eater dropping into the night, un-broomed. Harry felt a pang of regret for Hedwig.

"Ahm sorry, Ahm sorry. I shouldn'a tried ter fixit meseff..."

"Don't worry about it, just keep going!", Harry called back. Two Death Eaters were rising to intercept them. More curses came at them, and Hagrid ducked and weaved. Harry fired of one stunning spell after another to hold them off, but barely. He shot a blocking jinx at them, and the closest one needed to dodge so rapidly that his hood came off. By the light of his next stunning spell, Harry recognized that Death Eater: Stanley Shunpike: the Knight Bus driver.

"Expelliarmus!", Harry fired at him.

"That's him! That's the real one! It's the real one!", Shunpike called to the others.

"Harry! Whuss happened? Where deygo!", Hagrid called out. The Death Eaters seemed to have dropped back suddenly.

"No idea!", Harry called back. It was inexplicable: they broke off for no apparent reason? Harry searched the surrounding dark skies, seeing nothing. He took advantage of the sudden inactivity, clambered around to face forward, clinging tightly to Hagrid's jacket. "I don't like this at all", he called out. "Does that foxfire thingy work more than once?"

"Dunnow", Hagrid replied. "Hole on gooden tye: less tryer", he said as he pressed the button. There came a deafening roar, twin plumes of foxfire erupted from the tail pipes, and Harry felt himself sliding off what little seat he had. To make matters worse, Hagrid was barely able to hold the handle bars to prevent his bulk from pushing Harry off.

"I tink we dunnit, Harry. I tink we lostem".

Harry remained unconvinced. He rapidly scanned the skies, straining to see what he was certain were the pursuing Death Eaters. Why had they fallen back? It made no sense.

"We almos dere!", Hagrid announced. "Looks like we made it!"

Harry felt the bike begin its descent, though the lights on the ground still looked as distant as stars. The scar suddenly burst into flame, two Death Eaters came up alongside the bike, and two Killing Curses _barely_ missed Harry. However, these came from behind, not from the sides. That's when he saw him: Voldemort. He was flying like smoke on the wind, with no broom, thestral, or even muggle technology holding him aloft. His snake like face gleamed out of the darkness, his long white fingers raising his wand.

Harry wasn't the only one to have witnessed the arrival of the Dark Lord. Holding on as tightly as he could with just knees, Jadin fished for the right card.

"King Device!". He watched as more data was arriving, and knew he'd not been too far away.

Hagrid made a strange sound of pure terror, as he pushed the bike into a nearly vertical dive. Clinging on with every reserve of strength, Harry sent stunning spells into the night, hoping to hit something by pure chance. He saw an inert body sail past, so he knew he'd hit one. He heard a loud bang, saw sparks flying from the engine. The motorcycle spiraled, completely out of control.

A hooded figure was mere feet from him; the figure raised his wand.

"NO! MINE!", Voldemort ordered, and the Death Eater backed off. It was over, Harry was certain. He could no longer see where Voldemort was. The burning of the scar forced his eyes closed. He glimpsed another Death Eater backing off, as he forced one eye open a bit, then heard:

"_You!_", Harry didn't understand at first...

"Erase claw!" He heard Voldemort scream with fury.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Erase claw!"

This time, farther away. He hazarded a glance back. Cyberdramon and Voldemort were going at one another. This time, a green jet collided with the digimon's attack. Sparks flew and crackled. Harry felt the pain in his scar intensify. Voldemort's anger and frustration was growing. Cyberdramon was obviously getting the best of Voldemort. The lights on the ground were much closer, and increasing in brightness at an alarming rate.

"_Selwyn: Give me your wand!_", came the demand from behind him. He felt Voldemort before he saw him. He looked sideways, straight into the glowing red reptilian eyes, certain this was the last earthly thing he'd see. Then Voldemort was gone. Nothing, simply gone.

Hagrid was still trying to get the motorcycle under some sort of control. He was partially successful, and managed to steer the bike into a controlled crash into a muddy pond.

"Hagrid", Harry called out, as he struggled to free himself from twisted metal and leather that had been Sirius' bike. His hands sunk into inches of muck as he tried to force himself to stand...

Next thing he recalled, he was lying on cushions, his ribs and right arm felt like they were on fire. He discovered that his missing tooth was back. The scar on his forehead still throbbed. "Hagrid?"

He opened his eyes to see that he was in an unfamiliar sitting room lit by lamplight. His rucksack, wet and muddy, was on the floor next to him. a fair haired man with a big belly was looking down at him, anxiously.

"Hagrid's fine", he said. "The wife's tending to him as we speak. I've also fixed broken ribs, a broken arm, and a missing tooth. That was quite the nasty spill you took out there in the garden. Did the motorcycle malfunction? Did Arthur overreach again - him and his muggle contraptions... I'm Ted, by the way: Ted Tonks, 'Dora's father"

"No, Death Eaters. Shit-loads of them". Harry tried to sit up too fast, as fireworks exploded behind his eyes. He felt sick and giddy.

"Easy there", as he helped Harry to lay down. "Death Eaters! I thought that they weren't supposed to know..."

"Well, they did somehow. Or they knew we were coming, and were just waiting. Voldemort..."

Ted Tonks looked up at the ceiling: "Well, we know our protective charms are effective, don't we? No one should be able to get within a hundred yards from any direction".

This made sense, as to why Voldemort had disappeared as suddenly as he did. That must have been the point where they crossed the perimeter. He hoped they would continue to hold. This time, he more carefully swung his feet to the floor and tried standing. The fireworks didn't explode. He needed to see Hagrid, to reassure himself that he was alive and (more or less) well. He had just regained his feet when a door flew open, and Hagrid appeared. His face was covered with mud and blood, he limped slightly, but was definitely alive and in one piece.

"Harry!", he called out, as he crossed the room in two steps, and swept the boy into a bear hug that threatened to break the newly repaired ribs. "Blimey Harry, howdju get oudda thah? I thaw we was bofe gonners fersure!"

"Yeah, me too: I can't believe it...", he stopped mid sentence at what he saw.

"You!", he called out, as he reached for his wand. It wasn't there.

"Your wand's right here", Ted said, as he handed it over. "It was lying on the ground, next to where we found you... And I'll thank you to take a different tone with my wife".

"I apologize... Case of mistaken identity". It was understandable: Andromeda was the image of her sister: Bellatrix. The major difference which Harry noticed as she drew closer: the hair was dark brown instead of black.

"What happened to our daughter? Hagrid said you were ambushed; where is Nymphadora?"

"I... really don't know", Harry said. We don't know what happened to anyone else".

Ted and his wife exchanged looks, and this gave Harry a vague feeling of guilt. If she, or anyone else, died, then he would be, if not responsible, the cause.

"The portkey", he said. "If we can get to the Burrow, then maybe there'll be word, and we can send a message, or when Tonks arrives, tell her to get in contact".

"'Dora will be OK. She knows how to take care of herself, and has gotten out of some pretty tight scrapes with the aurors. Portkey's in here, and will leave in three minutes... if you want to take it", Ted explained, leading the way.

"Yeah, we do", Harry replied, as he swung his rucksack over a shoulder. I'll tell Tonks – Dora - to contact you ASAP... Thanks for patching us up... Thanks for everything".

"That's the portkey", Ted said, indicating a hairbrush on a dressing table.

"Thanks again", Harry said, as he placed a finger on the portkey.

"Holon a minnit, Harry", Hagrid called out. "Whudaboud Hedwig?"

"Hedwig... didn't make it".

Hearing himself say it cemented the incident in reality. His eyes filled with tears. The owl had been his one and only link to the Wizarding World during all those summers he had to spend with the Dursleys.

Hagrid reached out a hand and patted him on the shoulder: "Never mine", he said gruffly. "Never mine... she had a grand ol' life..."

"Hagrid!", Ted warned. The blue glow was already beginning to appear. He barely got his finger on it in time.

_The Burrow_

"Harry! Are you the real Harry?", it was Molly Weasley. They'd landed in the front yard of the Burrow. "What happened? Where are the others?"

"Isn't anyone back yet?"

"You're the first". Molly pointed to a rusty paint can, and a worn out, dirty old sneaker: "they came back without Mad Eye, or Arthur. George and Remus should be here any minute now..." Molly was interrupted by the blue glow that was forming about ten feet away. George and Lupin landed, their portkey - an ordinary wire clothes hanger - dropped from Lupin's hand.

Then it occurred to them that something was not right: George wasn't standing on his own.

"What's happened to him!", Molly and Ginny called out simultaneously. Harry ran to help, but Lupin pulled him aside roughly.

"Oi!", Hagrid called out, "Hellsamatterwitchya? Leggo uv Harry!" Remus ignored him.

"Quick! What was the first creature you saw in my office the first time you met me?"

"Uhhhh...", started Harry, "a grindylow, I believe? You kept it in an aquarium".

Remus loosened his grip: "You're genuine". Harry went with Hagrid to tend to George. He was unconscious, and that was a good thing. Blood poured from a nasty hole in the side of his head where an ear should have been. They had no idea as to how this could have happened, nor did they care at the moment. Molly went to see after her son.

"What's this all about?", Ginny asked.

"Death Eaters: they were obviously waiting for us. We've been betrayed", Lupin informed her.

"No!", said Ginny. "You're saying it was someone inside the Order?"

"Frankly, I don't know, but I'm not going to take any chances".

"What happened?", Molly asked.

"George was sitting behind me, and we got hit. It was all I could do to keep him from falling off. To get him out of there, as he was loosing so much blood, to get back here before he bled out. I wasn't sure he'd make it. I'm afraid his ear's gone for good. No chance of replacing it as it was cursed off... Snape's handiwork..."

"_Snape?_", Molly put a hand to her mouth. She feared the worst: Professor Snape had failed to escape his past.

"I saw him, besides, Sectumsempra's a trademark of his..."

"You're _sure_ it was Sectumsempra?", Harry asked.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Here", Harry said as he pulled out his wand, "Vulnera Sanentur". He cast the healing spell he'd learned from Snape after attacking Malfoy. This stopped the bleeding. "George's ear _can_ be regrown", he reassured them. "Just put some dittney on it, and he'll be good as new".

"How?", Molly asked.

"I used that same curse on Malfoy last year. He really pissed me off, and it was the first thing I could think of. I didn't know what it did at the time, otherwise, I wouldn't've used it. Got me two months' worth of detentions, and I had to clean up the boys' restroom by myself, muggle style, but Professor Snape fixed him up good as new".

There were three more arrivals: Mad Eye, Kingsley, and Hermione. Kingsley had his wand out, as he crossed the distance between where he had arrived, and where Lupin stood.

"The last thing Dumbledore said to us", Kingsley demanded of Lupin.

"Harry may be a teen ager, but his judgement is sound. You can trust him".

"Close enough".

"Where's Jadin? Wasn't he with you?", Harry asked.

"We had five of them on our tail", Kingsley explained, "I'm pretty sure I shot one down - not sure about the other one - before our thestral took a hit. Mad Eye caught me, but as for Jadin... I... don't know..."

Ginny gave Hermione a hug: "I'm _sure_ he's just been delayed. He'll come".

"Vol... you-know-who was there...", Harry started to explain.

"We saw him too", Kingsley and Hermione agreed. "He was fighting Cyberdramon, and lost a wand when Cyberdramon's attack overwhelmed the Killing Curse".

"Then we couldn't've been betrayed...", Harry started, paused to let the thought form: "He didn't really know, did he? It wasn't until Stan Shunpike told him. If we'd been betrayed, wouldn't he already know I'd be going with Hagrid?"

"Possibly", Mad Eye agreed. "When he appeared, we were the first ones he attacked. He assumed that Harry would be going with an auror".

"What did you do?", Lupin asked, looking at Harry.

"I recognized Stan Shunpike, the Knight Bus driver. I know he's not in his right mind. He must be under the Imperious, so I disarmed him. That's when..."

"_That_ was your big mistake right there. If you didn't want to kill, you should at least stun..."

"Then I might as well have used the Avada Kadavra on him, he would have died in the fall..."

"Harry! These people are out to _kill_ you. They aren't expecting you to disarm! Attack back, fergawdssake! I know Expelliarmus can be a useful spell"

Harry was reminded of the Hufflepuff, Zacharias Smith, who'd ridiculed him for insisting that Dumbledore'a Army learn to disarm.

"It worked on Youknowwho..."

"And how many Death Eaters saw you do it? Harry, it was an odd thing to do then when your life was at stake. It's seen as your signature move. Don't let it become your trademark!"

"Are you saying I should have killed Stan?"

"No, of course not. However, if you're not prepared to kill, stun. If that had caused his indirect death, well, better him than you".

Harry shook his head: "So you're telling me to just mow 'em down if they get in the way? That's Youknowwho's style, not mine".

"Harry, the days of chivalry are long gone. It's an unfortunate necessity, but sometimes you have to fight dirty. If you're not mentally prepared to do that, you could get yourself killed, along with who knows how many of your friends. I know you don't like it, and _that_ is the difference between you and Youknowwho".

No more time for discussion, another blue glow in the yard, and Arthur and Fred appeared.

"Harry? George?", he asked.

"George's back, but he was hurt...", Arthur headed for the front door.

"Get the fuck out of my way Kingsley! I'll prove who I am _after_ I've seen my son!"

Harry had never heard Mr. Weasley raise his voice, nor use language like that. He swept into the room, headed towards the couch where George lay. Fred joined him, Arthur knelt by George's head. As if on cue, George stirred, his eyes fluttered open.

"How do you feel?", Arthur asked.

"Ummmm... artistic". he replied.

"Do you suppose it affected his mind?", Fred asked anxiously.

"_Artistic_?", Arthur said.

George raised a hand to his missing ear that was just beginning to regenerate. "I should be able to paint like Van Gogh".

"Pathetic George, truly pathetic. A world full of ear jokes and you go for Van Gogh".

"Ah well, I tried... How come Ron and Bill aren't crowding around my sickbed?"

"They haven't returned yet", Ginny explained.

Bill and Fleur were next to arrive, their thestral landing in the garden. Then they heard a terrible roar.

"DROP THIS F'KIN FORCE FIELD NOW!"

The odd way of putting it pretty much made it clear who'd arrived. Kingsley and Arthur ran to the front gate. Cyberdramon was carrying the limp form of his partner. Kingsley stopped Arthur: "How did Impmon come to Dumbledore's attention?", he challenged.

"After deleting two Dementors... NOW OPEN UP!", the digimon dragon snarled through bared fangs.

Arthur dropped enough of the protective charm to allow Cyberdramon to enter.

"I'll take him inside", Arthur offered just outside the front door.

Cyberdramon dedigivolved, and Impmon followed him inside.

"Jadin! Impmon!", Hermione exclaimed. "He... isn't...?", she asked in a near whisper, fearing the answer.

"No, but he's been banged up pretty good. Molly will tend to him", as Arthur carried Jadin to Ron's bedroom.

"What happened?"

"Whatshisname fired that green shit at me, and I hit him hard with an Erase Claw, drove it right back into his wand and it exploded - blew up right in his face. That's when I saw Jadin's thestral take a hit, and begin dropping like a rock. Someone swooped in and got Kingsley, and I broke off to get Jadin. Last thing I saw was Whatshisname going after Harry and Hagrid. Before I could get there, the falling thestral slammed right into Jadin. I thought he was done for. I'd've been here sooner, but I wasn't sure what the Burrow looks like, especially at night from the sky. Forch, I spotted Fleur and Bill, and followed 'em here".

"Mrs. Weasley's looking after him. She's good at healing...", Hermione reassured.

"But won't being a muggle..."

"It'll be fine. Muggle injuries are pretty routine compared to magical ones", she explained.

Everyone gathered, cramping the Burrow's sitting room, exchanging accounts of what happened after leaving 4 Privet Dr. Now that Impmon was back, they wanted more details about the digivolution they witnessed. He explained about the different levels: Fresh, Child, Rookie, Champion, Ultimate, Mega. He explained about the Digientelechia which was the source of digimons' evolution, but that it remained behind in the Digital World, and that's why all digimon who come to the Material World need partners with digivices. That he was indeed, the "fox" who'd been seen at Hogwart's the night Dumbledore died. Except that he referred to Kyuubimon with a term they had never heard before: kitsune.

He explained that Kyuubimon was based on these Japanese spirit foxes who, according to legend, could shape-shift at will, even appearing to be men, and especially women, of great attractiveness and sex appeal - irresistible to any human. That this was the origin of the slang term: "foxy lady", and that it wasn't originally a compliment, but rather referred to lovely women who shamelessly used their attractiveness to manipulate men. That the most reliable way to detect a kitsune was to get her drunk. Kitsune have a weakness for wine, but once inebriated, can't hold their human form. If you look closely, you might detect a flash of fox ears, or a tail. The most powerful kitsune always had nine tails, like Kyuubimon. Treat a fox with kindness, and, if it was a kitsune, good fortune's yours. Piss off a kitsune, and it will destroy you with your own weaknesses.

"Uhhhh... Hermione?", Jadin asked as he woke up.

"How do you feel?", she asked.

"Like I had a thestral shot out from under me... How long I been out?".

"About four hours".

"Been here all that time?"

"Uh-huh".

"You didn't have to do that".

"Mrs. Weasley said she repaired a few cracked ribs, a broken leg and arm, and a concussion. George is also on the mend, but everyone else came through OK. Cyberdramon brought you here after the accident..."

"No accident: it was an on-purpose", he struggled to get up.

"Maybe you shouldn't?"

"With all that racket, I'm not gonna get any rest. Might as well join the party".

The greeting he received wasn't what he expected: "Where's the Ravenclaw common room?", Lupin challenged, wand pointed right at him.

"West tower".

"What sets it apart from every other common room?"

"Well, it's the only one that has a view, and you enter by answering word puzzles instead of passwords", Lupin relaxed.

"You don't think I wouldn't recognize my own partner?", Impmon objected. "I'd know if his data wasn't correct".

"You can do that? Even if they used Polyjuice?"

"Damn straight. It can't hide the underlying data from me. I thought I explained all that a long time ago?"

"Then..."

"You have nothing to worry about. I already scanned everyone and they are who you think they are. If they weren't, I'd've already given them a Night of Fire".

"Sorry, we're all edgy since we don't know if we've been betrayed and by whom if we were", Lupin explained.

"Jadin!", Ginny, her brothers, Harry greeted.

Moody came up to him: "You and your partner: you done good out there. You earned it", he said, handing Jadin and Impmon a glass of firewhiskey. Jadin understood what Moody meant by that, it wasn't just a glass of firewhiskey they'd earned from Mad Eye.

"Woah. If that don't put hair on your chest... Not exactly Tennessee sipin' whiskey, is it?", Jadin commented after taking a drink. "Truth in advertising there".

"No, it sure ain't", Impmon agreed, "more on the order of Gekomon Moonshine".

"Thanks, just doin' our part", Jadin replied.

"Thanks", Impmon agreed.

"No. Thank you for delaying Youknowwho long enough to let us get Harry safely away. If you hadn't been there...", the alternative was too horrible to say out loud.

"Now that Jadin's OK, I have to be leaving, get on back to Downing St. I should have been back hours ago", Kingsley announced. He stepped beyond the perimeter, and disapparated.

The next day, Harry took Impmon aside: "There's something I'd like to ask".

"Name it"

"How many Death Eaters did you kill last night?"

"Not enough".

"Why not just stun them?"

"That's not how Erase Claw - or any other attack - works. They were all designed to delete the enemy".

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Why should it? They attacked first. Remember that day? Back when we met, when those Dementors attacked? That's when Whatshisname and his followers became our enemies. Harry: they tried to _kill_ you last night! They tried to kill your friends! They killed poor Hedwig! _They_ had a choice, they made their decision, and they got what they had coming. Regrets, Harry, I have none", Impmon shook his head.

"It's the law of the Digital World: delete your enemies, load their data to make yourself stronger. True, they left behind no data to load, but it's still the law I follow. By the digimon Code of Honour, I will protect my partner, his friends; I will delete your enemies. Or I will fall in battle trying my best".

"Isn't that a little cold blooded? Isn't that, well, just a bit _cruel_?"

"Do you know who created the law of the Digital World?"

"No..."

"It was you humans! You designed us to fight, survive, and evolve. Quite frankly, I find it hypocritical to be complaining about the end result. If that's not what you wanted, you should have written the core digimon program differently. It's also _way_ too late now". Impmon shook his head. "Harry: I don't think there's any turning back. Whatshisname made _his_ choice a very long time ago... back before there were any digimon, so I don't see him changing.

"As for his Death Eaters, show them mercy and all they will see is weakness. If you don't destroy Whatshisname now, once and for all, and send as many of his Death Eaters after him as you can, he'll just keep coming back and back. And, maybe, the next time, no one will be able to stop him. I care about you, Harry, you and Ron and Hermione, and all the rest I've met since that day in that alley. I'm afraid this soft spot of yours, however admirable, just might get you killed. And I don't want to see that happen. Remus was giving you good advice last night: take it.

"We digimon have dealt with his type before, and more than once. Whashisname is another Lucemon. In fact, he's much worse; Lucemon started out as an enlightened ruler who became corrupted by the very power he didn't intentionally seek. Whatshisname can make no such claims, or even has a pretense to such a claim. He is without excuse".

"I don't know... I mean... _Stan Shunpike_: I _knew_ him! I _liked_ him! How... could I..."

"Your so-called 'friend' (finger quotes) betrayed you! He _damn_ well knew who you were. He recognized you. And he called in his boss to finish you off! He may have been a 'friend' in the past, but he wasn't one last night. You should have blasted him right off that broomstick..."

"That's not what the Professor would have done".

"Dumbledore's desire to think the best of the worst was his biggest weakness..."

"I disagree: it was his greatest strength".

"I guess we'll have to agree to disagree, then".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Where's Impmon?" It was Ginny, sneaking off for some temporary respite from her mother's overbearing bossiness. It was the morning after, and at first light, Molly roused everyone, assignments at the ready. Jadin and Impmon were glad to stay out of the way, helping Hagrid take care of the thestral Bill and Fleur had arrived on last night. Hagrid was just as glad to have that help.

"He's off with your dad, he wanted Impmon's opinion on something, but I'm not supposed to talk about it".

"What?"

"Ted Tonks delivered what was left of Sirius' motorcycle, and he's hiding it from your mom in the chicken coop. Says he wants to rebuild it, but... I dunnow; looked pretty banged up to me. You understand: you didn't hear about it form me".

Turning to watch Jadin: "Why does he keep making that sound?" The thestral was calling out as no horse ever could.

"Blackthorne..."

"Blackthorne?", she asked.

"He didn't have a name, so I gave him one. He misses his stable mate". Turning back to Blackthorne: "C'mon, you have to eat". Jadin was offering a bucket filled with blood and meat, but the thestral kept turning his head away.

"Do you think so? He's just an ani..."

"Just a what, Ginny?", Jadin asked sharply. "You think just because he doesn't have two arms and two legs he doesn't have feelings? What_ is_ it with you people? You have beings you can have a conversation with and you treat them like they're yours to use, abuse, and dispose however you please: house elves, goblins, werewolves, centaurs, giants. And you _actually_ wonder why they side with Whatshisname! Sometimes I'm not sure they're not right... I can sure understand it...

"He probably saw it happen, or sensed it, anyway, he knows he's alone and that he shouldn't be. Thestrals are more intelligent than you give them credit for..."

"I didn't mean anything by it", Ginny said, apologetically.

"He's rye bouddat", Hagrid agreed. "Thass whuddai bin sain awl-long. How're yer makin' out?"

Jadin sighed: "Still won't eat".

"Try him 'gain layder. No sense ter ferrce ter issue".

"Wait up, Ginny", Jadin called out. She turned back.

"Sorry if I came off a bit too harsh. It's just that it's always been a touchy subject for me".

"I understand, and you're right... You and Hermione. I shouldn't've said that... I'm sure Blackthorne will eat soon".

"I don't like to see him this way, but he'll have to mourn and work through his grief in his own way, and in his own good time".

"So, Jadin, if a thestral sees death, does he see people?"

"Fred, you're such an insensitive _git_ sometimes!", Ginny reprimanded.

"Hey!", he ran off to harass his sister.

"You, me, Hermione: seems like we're the only ones who understand..."

"Looks ter me leyke Ginny's comin' 'roun... Maybe more sugar, less vinegar... juss sain", Hagrid advised.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"If it's a locket you're after, you might want to have a word with Kreacher", Impmon said, as he stood in Ron's bedroom door. "Excuse the intrusion, but I was looking for Hermione, and I happened to overhear", he explained the intrusion to Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

"What did you need?", Hermione asked.

"Jadin sent me. You know, to arrange a meeting for boy/girl social interaction".

"You mean snogging", Ron and Harry couldn't help but laugh, as Hermione turned red.

"Remind Jadin to tell you the meaning of 'discretion' some time, Impmon", Hermione said.

"No need..."

"Never mind. What's this about a locket?", she was eager to change the subject.

"It was right after we moved in. Kreacher accused me of stealing this fancy locket he kept in that shithole he was living in behind the kitchen. Was quite nasty about it, almost treated him to a Night of Fire. That was the same evening he decided to move into the bedroom we gave him, and it wasn't among the mementos he was moving up there".

"You're sure?", Ron asked.

"That's what he said: a locket he got from Regulus Black about sixteen years ago. You think Whatshisname hid one of his digicores in it?"

"Yes, if it's the one that belonged to Slytherin", Hermione replied.

"Come to think of it, that's what he called it 'Slytherin's Locket'. Said it was a gift from Regulus..."

"Kreacher!", Harry called out. He decided to risk the wrath of Molly Weasley. The house elf apparated right away.

"Master call?"

Kreacher looked completely different, and would hardly be recognizable since the last time he'd seen him. He was bathing regularly. Though he still wore only a loin cloth, it was now a clean, white linen he wrapped around his waist. His large bat-like ears still sported white hairs, though now clean and fluffy, white as cotton wool.

"Hello Master Impmon", he greeted.

"S'up?"

"Kreacher's been lonely since all of you left. Kreacher misses our talks".

"Sorry 'bout that, but it was on very short notice".

"Kreacher, I need to ask you something, and I order you to answer honestly: can you tell us how you came to acquire the locket you accused Impmon of taking?", Harry interrupted.

"It was about a year after Regulus joined the Dark Lord. Unlike his no account brother... Sirius", he said it with no attempt to cover up the distastefulness of saying it, "Regulus was glad to serve. Unlike his brother whose rebellious ways broke Mistress' heart, Master understood what it meant to of of the noble House of Black, and the dignity of his pure blood. He joined the Dark Lord in his quest to bring the magi out of hiding, to take their rightful place as the overlords of the muggles. So proud, so proud. Then, one day, he came to see Kreacher, and Master Regulus says that the Dark Lord needed an elf..."

"He needed an _elf_?", Hermione exclaimed, beginning to imagine how this wasn't going to turn out well.

"Oh yes, that's what he said. Master volunteered Kreacher, and told what an honour it was for Master and Kreacher. Master tell Kreacher to be careful to follow all the Dark Lord's instructions, then to return home. So Kreacher and Master go to see the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord took Kreacher to this cave by the sea. It wasn't easy for Kreacher, but Kreacher followed the Dark Lord. In the cave was a much larger cavern, with an underground lake. Kreacher and the Dark Lord took a small boat to a tiny island.

There was this stone basin, and the Dark Lord took a silver cup, and told Kreacher to drink this potion. Kreacher saw terrible things, terrifying things, Kreacher's insides felt like fire. Kreacher thought Kreacher would die, but Kreacher kept drinking until it was all gone. The Dark Lord placed this fancy locket in the basin, and it refilled itself. The Dark Lord left Kreacher stranded on that island, as he sailed away".

Hermione had a hand to her mouth, looking horrified.

"Kreacher needed water, as Kreacher was very thirsty. But when Kreacher took a drink from the lake, hands, hands of dead people, pulled Kreacher under..."

"How did you get away from the Inferi?", Harry remembered that part too.

"Master told Kreacher to come home when the Dark Lord didn't need Kreacher's services any more".

"Yes, you said that already, but how did you escape the Inferi?"

Kreacher sighed: "Master told Kreacher to come home", as if it was so obvious it didn't merit explication.

"It's pretty obvious, mate: he disapparated...", Ron said.

"If it was that easy", Harry said, "then Dumbledore..."

"Elf magic is different", Hermione explained. "Remember: Dobby can apparate and disapparate through the perimeter at Hogwart's".

"Yes, he could, but that doesn't explain why Youknowwho..."

"Yes, he meant for Kreacher to not leave that island alive, but you're forgetting that he'd consider elf magic beneath his dignity to bother to understand. Same as he doesn't seem as interested in digimon as he should be".

"What she... What's your name again?", Kreacher asked.

"Hermione. Hermione Granger".

"Yes, what Hermione said. It was a year, maybe a year-and-a-half later that Master comes to Kreacher and asks Kreacher if he would show Master where the cave was, and would he take Master there. Master says that Kreacher must never tell Mistress or anyone else in the family. Master also says Kreacher should stay in the house as much as possible, and to stay out of sight. Kreacher took Master Regulus to the cave, showed him how to get past the barrier, and into the cavern. How to find the boat. Kreacher and Master sailed to the island..."

"And he made you drink the potion?", Hermione assumed.

"No, Master didn't. Master hands Kreacher a different locket, and Master says that Kreacher shall exchange lockets, and to take the original home with him and destroy it. Master then drank all the potion, and when Kreacher can reach the locket, he does as Master commanded. Kreacher switched lockets. Master went to the water, and...", Kreacher had to pause to clear his throat.

"And then... and then... Kreacher sees Master pulled under. Nothing for Kreacher to do, because Master order Kreacher to go home immediately. Kreacher ordered to never tell Mistress, so Mistress never learned what happened to Regulus...". Kreacher was crying now, and not trying to hide it. "Misress' heart broken, but Kreacher can't tell... Kreacher try to destroy the locket, but he fail every time. Kreacher failed to serve Master..."

"We've heard enough", Hermione said, as she reached out to give the old house elf a hug, which he accepted. That's when she realized: he never called her a "mudblood". "And, no, you didn't fail. That locket had special properties that make it nearly impossible to destroy, and ordinary magic won't do it. Regulus didn't know. Not your fault".

"Kreacher, do you know what happened to it?", Ron asked.

"Kreacher doesn't know, but if Master Impmon didn't take it, then Mundungus Fletcher must have".

"How do you know that?"

"After Sirius left for the last time, Mundungus came back and took lots of things that belonged to Mistress: silver goblets, gold framed portraits of Bella and Cissy, Order of Merlin, First Class that belonged to..."

"And you know this..."

"Kreacher saw him. Kreacher ordered him to leave, but, like all wand-carriers, he did as he pleased. Sirius ordered Kreacher never to harm Mundungus..."

"Do you think you can find him, bring him to us?"

"Find Mundungus Fletcher?"

"Yes, and bring him here. Would you do that for us? It's really important".

Harry took the counterfeit horcrux from a pocket, and handed it to Kreacher. He looked up, perplexed. It wasn't often anyone ever gave a house elf anything besides orders.

"I'd like for you to have it. It was Regulus' and I'm sure he'd want you to have it as a token of appreciation for going above and beyond the call of duty". His eyes were the size of tea saucers.

"Kreacher doesn't know what to say!"

"You don't need to say anything. It's rightfully yours. You earned it".

"Would Master Impmon hold this until Kreacher returns with Mundungus?", Kreacher handed him the locket for safe keeping.

"You got it, pal", Impmon agreed.

Kreacher disapparated with a flash-bang.

"I don't get it", Ron said. "After all that, he _still_ betrayed Sirius to Youknowwho".

"You have to remember that Sirius treated him like dirt... I saw that, but Harry, it's the truth, and we all know it... Regulus never explained to Kreacher why he'd turned against Youknowwho, probably because he didn't even feel a need to. Magi, especially the pure blood fanatics, like Regulus, treat house elves like animals. He ordered Kreacher to show him, to exchange the lockets, and that was enough. Regulus treated him kindly, and he obviously thought highly of him for it. He would have parroted his opinions, as if they were his own. If he failed to explain, then Kreacher would continue to believe that serving Youknowwho was a good thing... what Regulus would have done.

"He's also a house elf, so why should he care about a war between magi? I'm sure he thought his lot in life wouldn't change, regardless of which side won. As for muggles, why should he care? What does he know of muggles and their lives? Then he was left all alone in that house, staying right there all those years fulfilling an order from a long dead master. Then, when Sirius returned, he was probably looking forward to the company and a little affection. He didn't get it. I'm sure that when Kreacher appeared at Bellatrix's or Narcissa's doorstep, that they treated him like royalty. Even a little show of kindness, and he'd be willing to do anything they asked. Anything.

"I always said that magi would one day pay a high price for treating non-human beings as objects that serve them without regard to their needs and desires. Sirius paid the ultimate price for the way he treated Kreacher", Hermione explained.

Three hours later, Kreacher was back: "Kreacher has returned with the sneak thief Mundungus", he announced as he struggled to hold the struggling thief to the floor.

"Whass tuh meanen uv diss!", Mundungus complained. "Settin' a bleedin' 'ouse elf on me!".

"Let him up, Kreacher", Harry told him.

He went for his wand, but wasn't quite fast enough: "Expelliarmus!", Hermione fired first. His wand flew up, and she caught it on the fly.

"Wassis awl 'bout? Iffin hit's cuzz I dint show up, I ain neber signt awn ter git meseff kilt..."

"Nothing to do with letting Mad Eye down. We already knew you were an irresponsible, unreliable bit of slime"

"Den whah? Issit boud dem silver goblets? I ain got none leff. Iffin I di' I give 'em ter yeh. Sides ol' Sirius dint care boud none o dat junk inniways! Wass wrong wiff gittin some good ouduvem?"

"It's not about the goblets either, or any philosophical discussions of when it's right or not right to take things from friends who put their misplaced trust in you", Harry said.

"Den whuh?"

"When you were stealing my shit", Harry said, "You took a locket...".

"I doan rem..."

"Don't lie! For _once_ in your sorry, pathetic existence, try for just a little honesty. I know you stole Sirius blind even before his death. I need to know about that locket".

"Awl righ', yeah, I nicked it. Whasso portant bouddit".

"Then you still have it?", Hermione asked, trying very hard not to display too much interest.

"No, he doesn't have it", Ron speculated. "He's probably just interested in seeing if he let it go too cheap".

"Hit wuzz ter bess piece I 'ad, an' I dint git _nuttin_ ferrit; bleedin' gave hit away, dinnai? 'Ad no choice".

"What are you taking about?"

"I was sellin' my... uhhhh... wares in Diagon Alley when she come up, axin iffin I 'ad a bidness lie-sunz. Bleedin' snoop. Ah ain nevah 'ad no bidness lie-sunz, an' dis bish takes a rye fancy ter dat locket, an' she tole me ter gibbit to 'er an' she look ter udder way juss diss once an' ter fink meseffs lucky. Prolly dint need no lie-sunz, prolly lian an' tookit under false pretenses". They got the impression that Mundungus was realizing this possibility for the first time.

"Who was she?", Harry asked.

"I dunnow... some Min'stry bish..." Mundungus paused to recall. "Little, ugly as sin, she was. Wore a pink bow in 'er 'air, awl in pink akshully... Face that could stoppah clock. 'Ad a funny way of talkin', awl pleasant-like, but faked".

"And you're sure she has it?"

"Ah dunnow, but she shur dun tuk uh fancy ter hit, so's I s'pose she still goddit".

"That's all we need to know. From now on, stay the hell out of 12 Grimmauld Place. Give him back his wand, and get him out of my sight", Harry announced.

The scars on the back of Harry's writing hand prickled. Ron, Hermione, and Harry exchanged knowing looks. They knew exactly to whom 'Dung was referring: the erstwhile High Inquisitor: Dolores Umbridge.

"Kreacher, you did very well", Harry complimented.

"I thought I heard you come back", Impmon said. He fished Regulus' locket from the inside of one of his gauntlets. "Here ya go: safe and sound, just like I promised".

"Kreacher thanks", as he placed the locket around his neck.

"Uhhhh, Harry, I'd like to keep Kreacher close at hand. I'd appreciate it if you didn't send him away".

"What's up?"

"Not sure, but I made a promise, and I'll need to keep him close. Besides, an extra pair of hands would come in handy. You wouldn't mind helping out for awhile?"

"Kreacher glad to help Master Impmon".

"I want a word with you".

"Yes, Master Impmon".

"You understand that, once we go, there's no turning back? You're not a digimon, and you won't be able to cross the Frontier on your own. You're essentially asking to be stranded, so you need to be very sure you want to do this".

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked on, wondering what this was all about.

"Kreacher has thought about it for weeks now and his mind is made up. Kreacher understands. Kreacher has nothing: Regulus is gone, Mistress is gone, even Sirius... gone..."

"What are you talking about?", Harry asked.

"Kreacher is going to the digimon world...", the old house elf told him.

"But... _why_? You don't belong there..."

"Kreacher doesn't belong _here_. Kreacher knows Master wants to send Kreacher to Hogwart's to serve the wand-carriers. Kreacher wants to be like Master Impmon, to obey because he wants to, not because he has to. Kreacher was proud to serve Regulus because he liked and admired Master Regulus. Kreacher happy to serve Mistress, because she was close to Regulus. Kreacher served Sirius, and now Master Harry, because he has no choice. Kreacher thought this was the natural order, Kreacher didn't know better.

"Then Kreacher met Impmon and the muggle family. They treat Kreacher much better than any wand-carrier ever did even when Kreacher was nasty to them. They never ordered Kreacher to punish himself, not once did they. Kreacher forced to realize that he has been lied to all along, even by Master Regulus and Mistress, about what mudbloods and muggles are really like. Then Master Impmon explain about partnership, of obeying because he wants to, not because he has to. Now Kreacher understands, at long last, Kreacher understands, and Kreacher will no longer serve any wand-carrier willingly".

"If that's what you want, I have the power to free you, as Dobby was freed. Then you _would_ be just like Impmon. You could still come to Hogwart's and be paid for your labour..."

He shook his head: "Kreacher wants no favours from Master Harry". Harry remembered that last Christmas present Kreacher sent him: a box filled with live maggots.

"Kreacher wants to get as far away from wand-carriers as possible. Kreacher wants nothing more to do with your kind. You lied to Kreacher, you ruined Kreacher's life. No, Master Harry, Kreacher will start over even if he isn't a digimon he will find his place with digimon".

"I'm sure you will", Hermione told him. "I wish you luck".

"Kreacher regrets he called you 'mudblood', Hermione. Kreacher has much to regret".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The day before Harry's birthday, Molly cornered Jadin: "I know you kids are up to something - don't bother to deny it. I've raised seven kids, and I've learned a thing or two".

"I noticed how you're scattering Ron, Hermione, and Harry all over the Burrow. Trying to keep 'em from plotting? I can't gossip about them..."

"Then you _do_ know..."

"I don't mind talking about my own plans..."

"Oh?"

"Mrs. Weasley, the essss is about to hit the fan. You can't deny that, and I figure we'll be leaving..."

"Leaving? For where! If you leave the protection of the Burrow..."

"For the Digital World. Whashisname can't get to me there, and we'll need allies. That means an audience with at least one of the Holy Beasts - the Digimon Sovereign - and for that, we'll need to go there in person".

"Who's we? Ron..."

"I was thinking of asking Remus, Tonks, and Mad Eye to come with me. Remus for his diplomatic skills, Mad Eye since he fought him the last time, Tonks, because she's Remus' wife, and an auror who can describe what Whatshisname is planning this time".

"Thanks for being honest with me... Have you discussed it with them?"

"Tonight".

"What are Ron and..."

"Mrs. Weasley, I really don't know anything..."

"And if you did, would you tell me?"

"I really don't know what I'd do".

"I appreciate your telling me this".

"Ummmm, Mrs. Weasley, I was wondering if you could do me a small favor? It's about Harry's birthday. I got him a little something, but I didn't have a chance to wrap it, and I was wondering if you could work some of your hocus-pocus...", he brought out the unwrapped PDA.

"Sure", as she pulled out her wand, waved it, and instantly gift wrapped it.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"No, Jadin, I can't go, my place is _here_", Mad Eye objected. "I'm not the diplomatic type, and you already have Tonks to represent the aurors, if that's what you need. It would feel too much like deserting the post Dumbledore assigned me", Mad Eye explained. "As for your other suggestion, I agree: Remus and Tonks would be the best choice..."

"You talk of standing your post, but how is it any different for me?", Remus pointed out.

"I'm not asking for you to desert anything. We need allies, and there's only one place we're gonna find them...", Jadin counter argued.

"I'll be safe and secure in the Digital World...", Remus complained.

"No. You will be helping negotiate with the Sovereign. I could go with Impmon, but how's that gonna look? The two of us asking for an alliance with parties who couldn't even be bothered to send a representative? They'd kick us right out of the Top Layer! It would almost be an insult!"

"Remus, Tonks: you haven't even had your first anniversary; you have a baby on the way...", Mad Eye started.

"And _neither_ of us are going to use that as an excuse...", Remus insisted.

"It's not an excuse", Mad Eye countered. "Your courage and dedication to the Order isn't under question here. You have a responsibility to your wife and your future child. That comes first, and you can still serve us, but not here: in the Digital World. Jadin's right about one thing: it _will_ look bad if there isn't a representative of the Wizarding Community present. He also knows you quite well, I'd say: you do have all the diplomatic skills".

"Let's say we go. What guarantees..."

"None", Jadin explained, as he shook his head. "I'm not promising anything, not even that we'll be granted an audience. I don't know how the Sovereign will decide; I can't guarantee they'll even agree to an alliance, or to send help. There _is_ one thing about which I am positive: it will never happen if we don't ask. The worst thing that can happen is you're no worse off for trying. The best is Whatshisname and his Death Eaters find themselves facing an army of digimon warriors. I'd say the ROI is pretty damned good here. Can you deny that?"

Remus looked down to the floor, saying nothing. Tonks slipped her hand into his: "Honey, I think we should try it".

"I still think my place should be here. If there's a fight... Why don't you go?", he said.

"We promised to be together, for better or worse. Remember? You aren't abandoning anyone. We _need_ you, Remus".

"When were you thinking of leaving?"

"Not until after the wedding".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The day of Harry's birthday dinner/celebration was graced with an unexpected visitor. This was the day that Arthur had to take his leave early, promising that he would definitely be home in time. It didn't work out that way. Molly had brought out a birthday cake in the shape of a snitch, and was saying that maybe they should start without Arthur.

Everyone but Jadin saw it: a streak of light flashed across the yard, resolving itself into a silvery weasel that stood on its hind legs and spoke in Arthur's voice: "The Minister and I will be arriving directly". With that, Arthur Weasley and Rufus Scrimgeour materialized right outside the Burrow's perimeter. Time enough for Remus and Tonks to disappear; not enough for Jadin and Impmon to seek a hiding place.

Arthur and Rufus came up to the garden area lit by lamplight. As Scrimgeour came into the circle of light, Jadin saw that he looked a good deal older, and far more grizzled, than he'd seen him before. It was obvious that the responsibilities of his office were not resting lightly on his shoulders. He paused to give Jadin and Impmon a look-see, eyebrow raising slightly.

"Forgive the intrusion", he said, "I shall not take up too much of your time, as it looks like I'm gate crashing a party". His eyes wandered to the snitch shaped cake: "Many happy returns, Harry", he said.

"Thanks", Harry replied with forced politeness.

"I require a word with you, Harry. Also Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. Is there somewhere we can have privacy, free from intrusion?", he asked.

They wondered what this could possibly be about. "Us?", said Ron. "Why us?"

"I shall explain everything once we can be assured of a private place. Is there such a place?"

"Yes, of course", Mrs. Weasley replied. "The sitting room, I think. Will that be alright?"

"Lead the way", he motioned to Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us", he said to Arthur.

"Hell's that about?", Impmon said quietly to Jadin.

"I don't know, but I don't like it".

Did Scrimgeour know? That Harry, Ron and Hermione were not going to be returning to Hogwart's for the next term? Even though none of them had said so, there were few secrets at the Burrow. Could someone have blabbed Jadin's plans as well? Was Lupin, or more likely, Mad Eye responsible for this? Had his old habits as an auror gotten the best of him?

As they settled into the sitting room: "What's this all about", Harry asked. "I doubt it's just a visit for my birthday?"

"It's about the last will and testament of Albus Dumbledore", the Minister of Magic explained. "It names each one of you beneficiaries".

"The Professor left us something?", Ron asked, both at once incredulous, and with visions of piles of Galleons dancing in his head.

"To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive", he read the terms of the will.  
>"Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?"<br>"He… He knew I liked books. It was hardly a secret. I think everyone knows that already"  
>"But why that particular book?... Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages, with Dumbledore?"<br>"I don't know where in the hell you got that idea", Hermione protested.  
>"Ummmm...", was all Scringeour had to say to that. It was obvious he didn't believe her.<br>"To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it"  
>"That is a valuable object. It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore's own design. Why would he have left you an item so rare? Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students, yet the only ones he remembered in his will are you three. Why is that? To what use did he think you would put to the Deluminator, Mr. Weasley?"<br>"Put out lights, I s'pose. What else could I do with it?"  
>"To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill<em>… <em>I noticed that your birthday cake is in the shape of a snitch, why is that?"  
>"Oh, it can't be a reference to the fact Harry's a great Seeker, that's <em>way<em> too obvious. There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!", Hermione piped up before Harry could think of an appropriate come-back.  
>Scrimgeour held out the now inactive snitch in the palm of his hand: "There's something concealed inside", he informed Harry. "What do you suppose that might be?", he asked.<br>"I wouldn't know. I didn't even know he held onto it. I've caught many a snitch as Gryffindor's Seeker".  
>"Why are you hesitating?", he accused. "It's yours after all".<br>They both knew: every snitch was programmed to recognize the DNA signature of the last person who caught it, as a means to settle any disputes on the Quidditch pitch.  
>Harry finally picked it up, but nothing happened, to Scrimgeour's obvious disappointment.<br>"Why would he leave this to you? There have been lots of Seekers in Hogwart's history. Is it customary for Headmasters to be leaving snitches to Seekers?"  
>"Maybe it's just as the will says: a reminder of how perseverance pays off?"<p>"I think you're up to something..."<br>"All we're up to is a birthday party. So the Professor left us some parting gifts. How's that any of your damn business, Mr. Minister?"  
>"He left you something else: To Harry James Potter, I bequeath the Sword of Godric Gryffindor... According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor. That does not make it the your exclusive property Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided, it was never his to bequeath to anyone. Why do you think he would even attempt to leave you Hogwart's property?"<br>"Professor Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword? That's news to me, as he never mentioned the possibility, not once. I suppose he could have given it to me while he was still alive, and no one would be any the wiser. Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall?"  
>Scrimgeour got no satisfaction from Harry, Ron or Hermione.<br>"Walk with me", Scrimgeour offered to Jadin.

"The answer's no", Jadin told him.

"I haven't asked you anything yet".

"Mr. Minister: you didn't take time off from what must be a very busy schedule to come all the way out here to the boonies just to wish Harry a happy B-day. You could have sent an owlpost for that. I have a real good idea what you're going to ask. It's the same you asked of Harry on two previous occasions. I've read the articles in the _Prophet_, all those admonishments about not spreading rumours of 'mysterious allies'. The most effective way to start a rumour is to tell as many people as possible not to spread a rumour. Isn't that right, Mr. Minister?"

"Clever boy.. I am disappointed that you have chosen not to come forward about what you know of these new beings that have been showing up at the most convenient of times".

"I can't tell you how many Mentors are in the UK. So far as I know, it's just Impmon and me".

"You haven't tried to find out?"

"No. Given Whatshisname's reputation as a Legilimens, if I don't know, then neither can he. I refuse to put them in any further danger..."

"Dumbledore spoke to you about an alliance..."

"Then you would also know I can't promise anything on that regard. I don't know if the Digimon Sovereign would even be interested in such an alliance. I explained all this to the Professor already".

"It would give people a reason to hope".

"And make _you_ look good in the bargain. Go find someone else to help you make political hay..."

"Dumbledore's man, just like Potter..."

"Hardly, Mr. Minister. There's one big similarity though: we don't like the idea of writing checks that we may not be able to cash. Good day Mr. Minister". ...

"So Dumbledore left you a snitch, Ron his deluminator, and Hermione an old book of kiddie tales? Comes all the way out here to bring that? Couldn't one of the Ministry's elves do that? Or an owlpost? That doesn't make sense", Jadin said after Scrimgeour had gone.

"I don't know, mate", Ron said.

"He was up to something", Harry explained. "He wanted to find out what the Professor knew just before he died. The Professor's will should have been settled months ago. Scrimgeour used the excuse that it's against the law to pass on dark artifacts. The Professor would never do anything like that, and there is obviously nothing dark about a book, a snitch, or his deluminator. They were looking for something else".

"And do you?", Jadin asked.

"We all do. He told me to tell Ron and Hermione everything, but to keep it to ourselves. What did he want with you?"

"Same as always: an endorsement. This time, a promise of an alliance with the Sovereign. I told him I wouldn't make promises I may not be able to keep, and, basically, he told me he didn't give a damn. Anything to make him look good".

The day of the wedding passed uneventfully, though the preparations were hectic. Food for guests to be prepared, a marquee where the ceremony was to take place to erect and decorate. This kept even Jadin, Impmon, and Kreacher plenty busy.

Jadin passed as another Weasley cousin, as there were so many, not everyone could be expected to keep track of all of them. Harry would hide in plain sight: Fred had gone to the nearby muggle town of Ottery St. Catchpole, nicked a few hairs with a Summoning Charm from a teen about Harry's age and height. Of course, Mad Eye's Polyjuice didn't fool Impmon for an instant. Otherwise, no one else wouldn't know Harry wasn't Barney Weasley, yet another cousin.

As for Impmon and Kreacher, they hid in plain sight, helping with seeing the arriving guests to their proper seats under the marquee. There were some comments, mainly about Impmon's unusual appearance, name and fashion accessories, the elderliness of Kreacher and why Arthur would have given him such a fancy locket. The inevitable speculations on how Arthur must be doing better to be able to afford two new house elves.

Hermione had decided to wear muggle attire: a floaty lilac dress that was a bit _too_ transparent with back lighting (though Jadin didn't agree with Molly's objection) with matching high heels; hair sleek and shiny. She was standing under the marquee with Jadin when Viktor Krum showed up unexpectedly.

"You look vunderful", the dark haired young man with heavy black eyebrows and a large, curved nose said.

"Viktor!", she exclaimed, "I wasn't expecting you... How nice to see you".

"Fleur invited me".

The problem was that Jadin had no idea as to who this was, not by sight, and not by name. This was something Hermione noticed right off: "Viktor, you haven't met my new boyfriend, Jadin Weston, yet".

"Hi", Jadin replied rather sheepishly. He had no idea as to what this Viktor would say, or ask him.

"Don't worry, Jadin, I won't allow him to steal me away". She snuggled closer to Jadin. Thinking quickly, she implied insecure new boyfriend meets an old flame.

"I von't do that", Krum promised.

"No, you certainly von't", Jadin agreed.

Viktor Krum was a famous Quidditch player, and a major Wizarding World celebrity. Indeed, most eyes, especially female eyes, were following him from the moment he appeared. It was something he'd gotten used to. It would look suspicious for any wizard to have not recognized him, if but by name only. Like an American not knowing who Mickey Mouse was - something GI's asked during the war to ferret out German spies in US uniforms.

The ceremony itself was remarkably brief, and differed but little from muggle weddings. The whole marquee magically redecorated afterwards, complete with dance floor, for the reception that was held right then and there. Muggle wedding receptions didn't feature floating, self serving bottles of champaign, butterbeer and firewhiskey, or trays of hors d'oeuvres.

Jadin, Impmon, and Kreacher all accidentally-on-purpose drifted to the same table with the now unrecognizable Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Viktor Krum put in regular appearances, who was a problem, as he wondered why the help seemed to be sitting with the guests, and why the Weasleys were tolerating that behaviour. It looked to Jadin that Krum wasn't as "x" a boyfriend as he claimed, and his promise not to steal away Hermione not made in good faith.

Luna and her father were no problem at all. Xeno knew he and his daughter were in the same house, class mates. Luna and Jadin got along quite well, and Luna had been a big help, getting her father the Harry Potter interview exclusive, and running pro-Harry Potter editorials even before it was the popular thing to do.

Xeno, with his obsession with fantastical animals was understandably fascinated with the subject of digimon. To his way of thinking, Impmon's presence reinforced his belief in the existence of the Crumple Horned Snorkack.

"What's with you?", Jadin asked Hermione, "if Viktor bothers you that much, I'll tell him to back off"

"It's more in Viktor's imagination than in reality. I took him to the Triwizard Ball, we kissed a couple of times and made empty promises to owlpost, but that really was the extent of it... I have a real bad feeling about this..."

"What? That Bill shouldn't've married Fleur?"

"No! Of course not... it's... hard to explain. Call it a premonition, if you like. I came prepared", she held up the small beaded bag that could warp space. "I packed Ron's and Harry's things, and anything else I thought we might need this morning", she explained.

"It's getting pretty late", Jadin looked around. The revelry had increased in intensity in direct proportion to the amount of firewhiskey, champagne, and butterbeer consumed. "If something was going to happen... I dunnow, I think it would have by now".

The night wore on, and Harry had disappeared saying he wanted to discuss something about the Professor with an old friend of his. There was that incident: Viktor and Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood, had a loud and nasty altercation over Xeno's choice in jewelry. He wore a silver pendant that consisted of an equilateral triangle bisected with a vertical line, and inscribed with a circle.

Viktor demanded why he would wear such a "filthy symbol". He explained that it had long graced the wall at Durmstrang, having been carved there by a Gellert Grindelwald while in attendance and who would later turn up as a dark wizard in the 1940s. Xeno protested his innocence of any such sympathies, and had no idea as to why Grindelwald would choose this as his symbol. The ugly incident nearly got Krum thrown out.

"I simply can't dance another step", she said as she collapsed in a chair. She kicked off a high heel, and began rubbing her foot...

Something had happened, suddenly, everyone was acting in a manner most incongruent with a wedding reception. Sudden, unnatural quiet. All eyes turning to the dance floor. Dancers seemingly frozen in mid- step. The live band had stopped playing.

"A patronus", Impmon explained. He had seen what Jadin could not: the streak of light that flew just over the heads of the guests and landed in the middle of the dance floor before resolving into a lynx. It began to speak in a familiar voice.

"Kingsley: he's saying that the Ministry has fallen... Scrimgeour has been assassinated... And they're coming..." The message was very brief. "Don't know who's coming, but it don't think he's referring to late arriving wedding guests".

Harry, who had just arrived after telling everyone he had a long talk with Eliphias Doge, and Hermione jumped to their feet, whipping out their wands. Jadin whipped out his digivice. He clicked through the menus until he pulled up a map of the Digital World that popped up on the holographic display.

"About a half-click west southwest", Impmon advised. He moved the cursor, and pressed "Enter".

"Destination set", flashed on the LCD screen. It changed: "Transit Ready" flashed in red.

Harry and Hermione had disappeared into the now panicking crowd. People were running in all directions; some were apparating away. Jadin knew what that meant: the Burrow's perimeter had collapsed.

Figures wearing black cloaks and silver masks were arriving: Death Eaters. Impmon put his fingers beside his nose, the middle finger along his nose, face scrunched in intense concentration for a few seconds. Next, he held his hands out straight.

"SSSSSUMON...", two thin, concentric rings of fire appeared before him. "FLAME!", as he lifted both hands above his head, producing a yellow fireball. He swept both hands forward, sending the fireball into the Death Eaters, incinerating a bunch instantaneously. Others flailed about, tearing at robes engulfed in fire. This contributed to the spreading panic, as the wedding guests didn't know what that was.

"There! That oughta hold 'em for while!"

"C'mon, we gotta find 'em!", Jadin called out to Impmon and Kreacher.

"Ron!", they heard Hermione somewhere. "Where are you!".

"Protego!"

"This way", Jadin had recognized the voices: Remus and Tonks. "C'mon!", he grabbed Impmon's hand, and Impmon grabbed Kreacher's. "There they are! Remus! Dora!"

They turned to see who was calling as a streak of light flew above their heads. Whether it was a protection charm or something much worse, they couldn't tell.

"Time to get the hell out of here!", Jadin announced.

"Protego!", Lupin fired off a spell.

"Not..." Jadin grabbed Remus' wand hand, Impmon grabbed his free hand, and Kreacher's. Kreacher grabbed onto Tonks.

"Digigate Open!" There was no time to debate the issue.

They were gone in a flash of light. Remus had a brief sensation of falling through complete, featureless darkness. At first, he had thought Jadin had somehow pulled off a slide apparition. He was disabused of this notion as any sense of falling or any other motion faded. He was floating in an absolutely disorienting nothingness.

"What...?", Lupin was glad to see he could still talk.

"Where...?", Tonks asked.

"Transition Zone", Jadin told him. He looked around. The others must be close, but he could see nothing.

A thin white line appeared in the distance, how far away, he could not tell. In the featureless zone it could have been miles away, or just inches, and it wouldn't have made any difference.

"There's the Frontier", it was Impmon this time.

The Frontier grew thicker and brighter, however, there was no sense that they were moving closer. It could have been the same distance, just changing its appearance. Then, suddenly and without warning, it broke up onto a spectrum of parallel lines. The lines turned through ninety degrees, then broke up into many lines that began to bend and develop a wavelike motion. They were surrounded by a featureless whiteness.

Sensibility returned: they no longer felt as though floating in a weightless nothing with no up, down, or sideways. Finally, darker, indistinct shapes appeared. At first, they couldn't tell if they weren't just imagining it. These grew darker, so they were sure they were not just imagining it. Colour began to appear. Details slowly filled in. The white light faded.

"Welcome to the Digital World", Impmon announced.


	22. Nicking the Locket

**22) Nicking the Locket**

_London: Tottenham Court Rd._

Hermione, Ron, and Harry, still not looking like himself, landed here after their hasty apparition from the Burrow.

"Where...", Ron began.

"Somewhere in London", Hermione explained, "I didn't exactly have the time to set a destination more accurately. I don't think we were followed..."

"What about the rest of the family?", Ron complained. "What'll become of them?"

"I don't think they're in any immediate danger, but you'd think they'd have more respect for a wedding", Harry explained. "Wait until things calm down, then maybe we can check back. We'll have to get our stuff..."

"No, we won't", Hermione explained. "I packed everything we'll be needing before the wedding. I thought something like this would happen".

"That's all well and good, and thank you for thinking ahead", Ron told them, "but what now? It's not like we can check in at the Leaky Cauldron, now is it?"

"Well, no, but how about there?", Harry suggested as he pointed to the illuminated sign across the street: Luchino Caffe. The only attention they received was a couple of construction workers who wolf whistled at Hermione.

This small cafe was more like a greasy spoon, and you could take that literally, as there was a film of grease on the Formica table top. They were none too tidy about the end-of-the-day cleaning.

"Whatcanigitcha?", the waitress/counter person asked.

"Coffee, cream, no sugar", Hermione replied.

"Coffee", Harry and Ron agreed.

"Three coffees", the waitress acknowledged and mocked at the same time. At least they could order some food to go along with their coffee.

"What now?", Ron asked over cups of gray, foamy coffee: "God! That's nasty!", he announced after taking a sip.

"I think Scrimgeour was right about one thing", Hermione explained, "the Professor was trying to tell us something with what he left us". Hermione dug out her copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. "See?", she asked as she pointed to the inside fly leaf, "same symbol Xeno Lovegood was wearing. Someone drew it in for some reason".

"Wasn't that Grindelwald's symbol?", Ron asked.

"If it was, was that the only possible meaning? Grindelwald was active before Xeno's time, and do you see Luna or her father as followers of a dark wizard of any sort?"

"You think so?", Ron asked. "Then what's the significance of the deluminator? Or Harry's first snitch? Why the hell would the Professor go to all the trouble to reinvent the light switch? Want the lights out? Turn 'em off or blow 'em out".

"I haven't figured that out quite yet", Hermione explained. "However, there was the Sword as well. He must've known he couldn't will _that_ to Harry? That the Ministry wouldn't just hand over one of Hogwart's most prised artifacts of one of its Founders to Harry just like that?

"So what's the significance of what he was trying to tell us? Godric Gryffindor's sword. And where did Gryffindor come from? Or Harry, for that matter?", Hermione asked.

"Godric's Hollow", Harry answered right away. "Makes sense, do you suppose that's where he sent the Sword? He would have known he couldn't trust the Ministry to just hand it over?"

"If Dumbledore had something to say, then why didn't he just come out with it?", Ron asked.

"Remember what Impmon told us?", Hermione asked. "He knew he was dying, and didn't have much time. He used his will to communicate something in secret, hoping we'd figure it out. He was well aware that Voldemort has spies inside the Ministry. Even as it is, they're suspicious. How many Headmasters would leave personal items to students in their wills?"

The doorbell tinkled as two late shift workers were just now coming in, probably for an after-work snack.

"Good point. I..."

"_Get down!_", Harry called out. The "workers" were drawing wands.

Ron threw himself across the table to cover Hermione. To his horror, he saw a hole blasted in the wall right where he'd been sitting.

"Stupify!", Harry dropped one.

Ron tried taking out the other one, but got hit with a Full Body Binding Curse.

"Stupify!", Harry missed and hit the waitress instead, as she screamed and ran towards the rear exit.

From beneath the table, Hermione finally got a Body Bind on the second Death Eater.

"Now what...", Harry began.

"A little help here!", Ron called out.

Hermione neutralized the curse, freeing Ron.

"Now what?", Harry asked.

"Kill 'em", Ron suggested. "Dead men tell no tales". Ron had his wand out, and pointed at the bound Death Eater.

"I have a better idea", Harry suggested. The conscious, though helpless, Death Eater couldn't hide the look of relief at hearing that. "First, let's put your new deluminator to good use before anyone sees".

Ron extinguished all the lights.

"Sometimes, dead men _do_ tell tales", Harry pointed out. "If Youknowwho discovers his men dead of the Killing Curse, he'll know they were on our trails. If they simply can't remember, then it's likely he'll figure it was Ministry Obliviators at work. Be a helluvalot less suspicious".

"How did they know in the first place?", Ron asked.

"My guess is that Youknowwho's real name has the Taboo Charm put on it. Now that he's taken over the Ministry, it would be a good way to hunt down dissidents, who'd be less likely to give that name the respect he thinks it's due. Best not to address him by the name he's given himself from now on", Hermione speculated. "Best not to use the name his mother gave him either, though he hates being addressed by it".

"Obliviate", Hermione got to work.

They apparated to 12 Grimmauld Place, as they had no better ideas as to where to hole up until they got something figured out. How much longer the HQ of the Order would remain safe was anybody's guess. They realized the Fidelius had been greatly diluted.

The first thing they discovered was a jinx that produced a horrible figure of a skeletal Albus Dumbledore looking to exact terrible vengeance on his killer. "We didn't murder you", caused the figure to disintegrate into a harmless cloud of dust. One of the Order must've created it to keep Snape out. Apparantly, Impmon's news wasn't spread beyond the confines of Madam Pomphrey's infirmary. Either that, or they figured it would look very odd were there no jinxes in place to deter the "traitor" and "assassin" of their leader should any Death Eaters drop by for a visit.

"Now what?", Ron asked.

"First order of business is to get that locket", Hermione told him.

"How? You don't suppose we could just waltz in there, and politely ask Umbridge to turn it over?", Ron asked sarcastically.

"One of the items I packed before we left the Burrow was Mad Eye's Polyjuice", Hermione reminded. "That'll get us in".

"Case the Ministry?", Harry suggested, "while we wait for everything to calm down a bit".

"And set up for housekeeping", Hermione finished.

They discovered that someone had tossed the upper level bedrooms: the ones that once belonged to Sirius and his brother Regulus. Sirius' bedroom door was decorated with the crest of House Gryffindor, whereas his brother's with that of Slytherin. Also, the initials "R. A. B." had been carved into the wood.

Inside, Sirius' bedroom looked like that of any muggle teen. Iron Maiden posters (the muggle Metal band, not the Medieval torture device) pin-ups of skantily clad young women from the center folds of muggle girly magazines, and motorcycles graced the walls. The only thing related to magic was his framed OWL certificate. It must've been a painful sight, especially to Walpurgia, whose portrait graced the second floor wall.

The contrast couldn't have been greater. Regulus' walls were covered in cuttings from the _Prophet,_ all stories about Voldemort's exploits and speeches during his last rampage of terror, now long gone yellow with age. It was this bedroom, especially, that had been gone over, none too carefully, and apparently in haste.

"Who...", Hermione began to ask.

"Looks like the anti-Snape jinx didn't work so swell", Harry said. He was holding part of a letter that was partially concealed underneath the bed with the bottom torn off, and a photograph that had been carefully creased then torn in half. The half of the photo left behind showed James Potter with the infant Harry in his arms.

"My guess is the other half was my Mum", he explained. "Snape always had a thing for my Mum. He wouldn't want the rest, given how he felt about Dad". Harry unfolded the letter:

_Dear Sirius,_

_I wanted to say 'Thank you' for agreeing to become Harry's Godfather. I know we didn't get along very well in school. I disapproved of your hi-jinks, and especially how cruel you were to Severus. Times change; people change. We've matured a great deal since our days at Hogwart's. Look at us: who would have ever thought that Lily Evans and the leader of the Marauders would get along to become happily married. We are happily married, and now we have a son, and you have a Godson._

_I'm sending along a picture of the three of us..._

The rest was missing, torn off. He could only wonder what his mother had written all those years ago?

"What do you suppose he wanted here?", Ron asked.

"I dunnow?", Harry replied. "Maybe the same thing we wanted: Slytherin's Locket?"

"How would he know?", Ron asked.

"I know none of us liked Snape", Hermione speculated, "but that didn't make him stupid, just a miserable prat. Maybe the Professor mentioned something, sometime? Maybe he knew the Professor was on the trail of that locket before he and Harry went searching for it? Didn't the Professor trust him, and for longer than any of us have been coming to Hogwart's? Maybe it was something else he was after?"

"What?", Ron asked again.

"Evidence he was working for the Order? He came by for meetings frequently, and he's now a Secret Keeper, just like every other member. If Death Eaters come here, he wouldn't want them to discover he was a double agent".

Before leaving, Hermione took from the wall of Regulus' bedroom a small portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black – the x-Headmaster. Being that he was one of the few Headmasters Slytherin ever produced, and that he was a Black, would explain why Regulus would have wanted it.

"What's that for?", Ron asked as she slipped in into the beaded handbag.

"Might prove useful", Hermione replied, "in case we need help from Professor McGonagall".

_Digital World: Violet Zone_

Remus and Tonks still had their wands out, poised to strike at Death Eaters. After a few seconds, they realized they had not followed, and put their wands away. They were standing in a meadow filled with small, yellow flowers. They could hear birds singing, but didn't see any sign of them. The weather had changed from that of the Burrow. There it was a sultry late summer, here looked and felt more like spring. They noticed that there were no insects flying around the yellow flowers.

"Jadin, _why_?", Remus complained.

"I dunnow", Jadin replied, "seemed like a helluva good time to get out of there..."

"But our friends... Harry: they needed us! Jadin!"

"They can take care of themselves. Hermione was expecting this, and she was ready to leave at a moment's notice. She had Harry's and Ron's things all packed and ready to go. She told me that just before Kingsley's patronus appeared on the dance floor. We have our job to do, and here is where we get it done. Harry has his back in the Material World. The guests were already disapparating, and I'm sure Harry and his friends did likewise".

"You _can't_ be sure! What about Arthur? What the rest of the Weasleys? Is there any way..."

"'Fraid not, they would need a digivice. On the upside, no need to worry about Voldemort or his Death Eaters. Snape's been keeping knowledge that there's a Digital World nicely concealed".

"I was expecting something... different", Tonks commented, as she looked around the meadow.

"What were you expecting?", Impmon asked.

"This could be anywhere in Britain", Remus agreed. "Lots of other places as well... I don't know, maybe something more like virtual reality". He still wasn't completely convinced that he had not apparated.

"Are we here?", Kreacher asked. "Kreacher doesn't feel any different".

"This is the Physical Layer. Take a closer look", Jadin said. "And, yes, Kreacher, we're here".

That's when they began to notice: the sky was a much deeper shade of blue than any sky they'd ever seen. There were high altitude clouds, looking like normal, feathery cirrus clouds, but these also broke up and formed patterns suggesting a circuit board. That wasn't the only thing.

"What's that?", Kreacher asked, pointing skyward. Something dominated the sky, but it wasn't the Sun.

"It's the Material World Sphere", Impmon explained, "how your world looks from our side of the connections".

"That's our world?", Tonks asked.

"Not exactly, it's a representation", Impmon explained. "We're not actually in a LEO".

"What's with the silver funnels and those pink rays?", Lupin asked. The Material World Sphere was studded with silver funnels from which projected pink rays that contrasted against the deep blue sky. Had they existed on Earth, they would have been a thousand miles across, at least.

"Data streams coming from/going to Material World systems. Every bit of data created in the Material World passes through the Digital World. You want to avoid those data streams. Get caught in one, and there's no telling where it'll drop you".

Something was coming towards them, carried on the breeze. They looked like several glowing pink, somewhat off-round, balls. They rolled and tumbled past.

"What the hell are those?", Remus asked. If there were any doubts that this was still England or Scotland, they were gone completely.

"We call them 'dust packets': made from deleted data. You'll be seeing them quite often. They're harmless, but you don't want to touch them. They do have their uses, so they're not a complete nuisance".

"So where did we land?", Tonks asked.

"This is the Violet Zone: we impmon call it home. We're just outside the suburb where my folks live, maybe a half-click... that way", he said.

"Is Kreacher free of the enchantment?", Kreacher asked.

"One way to find out", Remus explained. "Jadin, give him an order and see what happens".

"Kreacher, I order you to pat your head, and rub your stomach", Jadin demonstrated. "Like this".

Kreacher stood there, still. He didn't move automatically. He felt not the slightest urge to punish himself.

"It's gone! Kreacher doesn't have to obey!"

"The enchantment broke when we crossed the Frontier", Impmon speculated. "No one will ever tell you to do anything you don't want to do ever again. You are a free elf".

"Kreacher thanks Master Jadin and Master Impmon for breaking the enchantment. Kreacher thanks you for bringing him here".

"Time to change your way of talking: you don't have masters anymore. Just plain Impmon will do nicely", Impmon told him.

"And just plain Jadin, too".

"Yes, Mas... Impmon". Kreacher knew it was going to be a hard habit to break, despite that he had not wanted a master after Sirius' mother died long years ago.

"If the binding enchantment... what about our magic?", Tonks asked.

Remus took out his wand and gave it a flick. A few red sparks flew from the tip: "Looks like it still works".

"We'd best be getting a move-on", Impmon announced, leading the way. They left the meadow at a road. They saw no traffic, or anyone else out and about. "That way", Impmon turned. "Not much traffic this time of day, and we're sort of off the beaten track".

There was a sign by the left side of the road. "I don't recognize these runes", Tonks said, as she studied the unusual symbols. "I thought I knew all of them".

"Not runes", Impmon explained, "digicode - the written language of digimon. Yep, we're going the right way, just over the next hill".

Over the rise, and it looked like an upscale suburb: strangely shaped homes on expansive lots spread out before them. They could see a side road leading into the subdivision.

As they turned down the lane, they came to a gate. On either side, twin stone pillars rose, each capped with figures looking much like dragons. Bronze plaques mounted on the sides of the columns displayed the name of the subdivision.

"Heightonview Terrace", Impmon translated the digicode. He led them down a wide tree lined boulevard.

"Doesn't seem to be anyone out and about", Tonks commented.

"Not this time of day, most are either at work or school", Impmon explained. "We'll see plenty of the neighbours later, when they start coming home. Be maybe a couple of hours yet, depending on how the traffic is, of course". Tonks thought to herself that at least some things were the same.

They went deeper into the subdivision, and met their first digimon. What Remus and Tonks, at first, took for a purple ball bounced down the street. They naturally looked around, to see who'd lost their ball, but saw no one. The "ball" stopped, and they saw that it had a dark brown face with green eyes. It let out a yelp, turned, and bounced away even faster than it approached. Before anyone could ask.

"Yaamon, our child form", Impmon explained. "He hasn't yet evolved to Rookie level. He's never seen anyone that looks like you".

Impmon and his guests arrived at his parents' home. This one was built up of seven sided columns. The front door looked like polished oak, was likewise a regular heptagon. Impmon rang the doorbell. and they could hear the chiming tune. The door swung inward.

"Son? Jadin? You're back. And you brought... guests?", as they entered the main hallway. Everyone had to duck, except for Kreacher and Impmon.

"Some friends we made in the Material World: let me introduce you. This is Remus Lupin..."

"My pleasure"

"...and his wife Nymphadora Tonks, errrr, Lupin..."

"I go by just plain Tonks. Glad to meet you"

"...and this is Kreacher".

"Kreacher greets".

"Everyone: my mother. Glad we caught you home. When's Father due back?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer, I don't think". Eyeing the strange creatures before him: "Son, what's going on? I never expected you to bring other Outworlders here"

"I'll explain later, but first, our visitors need some time to get acclimated to a world they just found out about".

"Yes, yes: pardon the lapse in manners. I wasn't expecting Outworld visitors. Come, I offer you refreshment", as she led them to a dining room table. The table was under a skylight, the panes forming a seven sided, heptagonal pyramid. She returned and placed a hexagon-shaped box in front of each guest, as she broke each one from a larger package stacked like a honey comb. The boxes were regular hexagonal cylinders, with orange trim, with a dark blue "D" on the sides. They were also served a glass with some clear liquid.

"This is diginoir - a delicacy among us digimon, and Gekomon sake".

"It's really quite good", Jadin said, as he pulled the top off his container and shook some out, "I've had it before. Gekomon sake could be compared to butterbeer back home. Just watch out for that Gekomon moonshine: it'll blow the top of your head off. Firewhiskey ain't got nothin' on Gekomon moonshine".

They followed Jadin's lead, and definitely agreed: diginoir and Gekomon sake were excellent. The Gekomon sake was like butterbeer in that it was only lightly alcoholic, though the taste was nothing like anything they'd ever had: either muggle or magical.

"We need a favour. I've got some connections of my own, but we'll need Father's help too. We need transit passes and an audience with the Sovereign".

"I don't know, getting a transit permit is difficult enough, but an audience? The Sovereign get lots of requests from all across the Digital World... even if they're granted, sometimes it takes months - or longer".

"It's of vital concern to the welfare of the Digital World". Jadin added. "I'm afraid we don't have months. Trust me, we wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important".

"I'm sure you wouldn't... What's going on? What's happened?"

Remus and Tonks told of what was going on in the Material World, and why they'd come.

"This Lord Voldemort: you think he poses a possible threat?"

"You can count on it", Jadin explained. "I know more than my people, we muggles, know. Even so, they are well aware that there's something very wrong. They know about the strange murders, sometimes of entire families. Always under strange circumstances: behind solidly locked doors, without a single sign of forced entry, no identifiable cause of death. Trains that go off well maintained tracks under perfect weather conditions. Cars that suddenly seem to drive themselves into oncoming traffic. The odd weather patterns: unseasonable cold in limited locales. The sudden rise in depression, suicides, increased political discontent as the authorities can't even give a plausible explanation, let alone do something about it. We are being hunted and we don't even know it..."

"We've seen the same reports coming across Material World media, we couldn't understand it either".

"One day, he _will_ find out about the Digital World, and he _will_ want to add it to his domains. He has the means".

"There's even worse news. Just before we arrived, we had word that Voldemort had taken over the Ministry of Magic: the government of the Wizarding World. The persecution of all who don't measure up to Voldemort's standards of who is a proper wizard will undoubtedly soon begin, if it hasn't already. I am included in those ranks. So are a lot of people we've considered friends for years", Tonks added.

"We've heard of witches and wizards, but wasn't that just the stuff of legend, myths, and superstition?", Impmon's mother asked.

"No Ma'am, I can assure you: it's quite real. There was once a time, a long time ago, when we didn't bother to hide ourselves from those who have no magical abilities, called 'muggles'. It wasn't until about 300 years ago that secrecy became Wizarding law. Over the centuries, knowledge of our existence passed into the stuff of myth and legend. However, every myth, every legend, has a basis in reality if you go back far enough. Here, allow me", Remus took out his wand.

He drained his glass of the last of the Gekomon sake and set it before him. He cast a Transfiguration Charm that turned the glass into a chipmunk.

"So you reprogrammed its data?", Impmon's mother asked.

"I... guess you could... put it that way, but that's a Transfiguration Charm. I can do the same thing in the Material World too".

As the chipmunk leaped from the table and began to skitter away, Remus reversed the charm, and the glass rolled across the floor.

"Interesting", as she picked up the glass, and returned it to the table.

"If Remus' magic works here, then so does Voldemort's", Jadin added. "Only he won't be turning glasses into little furry animals".

Remus looked on, deep in thought: "I don't understand... That charm... Show that to 99.9% of muggles and they nearly leap out of their skin".

"Remus!", Impmon banged his fist on the table. Remus started. "You think this is a solid surface, don't you?"

"Yes..."

"It's not. Nothing you see here exists in any form other than packets of one's 'n' zero's. You, me, Tonks, Jadin, Kreacher, this table, this house - everything. All form without substance. Take this glass, for example". Impmon flicked the lip, making it ring. "Nothing but a program..."

"You're saying we're... _dead_?", Tonks asked.

"Of course not, why do you believe that life must depend on atoms and molecules? _Cogito ergo sum_: there's a lot more truth behind that than you know. When you come down to it, when you see a sunset, are you really seeing a sunset?"

"How do you mean?", she asked.

"Consider: light is focused on your retinas, right? Nerve impulses travel along the optic nerve, into your visual cortex. Are you _really_ seeing that sunset, or the end result of data processing?"

"I never looked at it that way".

"Then why do we see...", Remus interjected.

"Everything that exists must exist as _something_. It has the appearance of being one thing as opposed to being something completely different. It would be pretty boring if everything appeared as it truly is: disembodied consciousness, wouldn't it? Since this is our piece of the Digital World, we impmon configured it to meet our needs. There are other Zones that are completely different. In the end, what else is there but data? Everything is data, whether it's here, or in the Material World when you get right down to it".

"Your mother, she spoke English..."

"No, Remus, you only _thought_ she spoke English because that's how you understand it. What you were really doing was exchanging data - one's 'n' zero's. You will discover there is no such thing as a language barrier. Had you been from France, you would have heard and conversed in French".

"So this is virtual reality?"

"That's one good way to think of it, yes", Impmon agreed.

"Then what happened to our bodies? We didn't really leave the Burrow?", Tonks asked.

"That's one thing we haven't quite figured out yet", Jadin explained. "We're not at the Burrow. As far as anyone knows, we all disapparated. That's what they'll think anyway".

Tonks wandered into an adjoining room, slid open the glass door and stepped onto one of several of the house's balconies.

"Remus! You have to see this!", Remus and the others joined her. Tonks was pointing to a distant mountain. Its summit must've topped 20000 feet, Remus guessed. They saw a line that seemed to bisect the summit, a waterfall. What was so amazing was that the base of this mountain was suspended thousands of feet above the surface.

"A floating mountain?", he asked himself more than anyone else. "How can a mountain...", Remus started.

"What did I just tell you?", Impmon replied. "Material World laws don't apply here, and, no, there's no possibility that it'll come crashing down".

Remus was beginning to understand why his magic trick failed to impress. A world without substance where form was determined by the arrangements of bytes of digital code made Transfiguration quite superfluous.

"So, Kreacher, what's your story?", Impmon's mother asked, as everyone headed back to the dining room. "I'm not familiar with any Material World inhabitants like you".

"Kreacher is a house elf. House elves serve the wand-carriers as slaves, as there are enchantments that prevent them from disobedience. If they say disrespectful things there are other enchantments that cause them to punish themselves. It makes no difference if they like their masters or not. Kreacher was inherited by Harry Potter after Kreacher's master, Sirius Black, died. Sirius inherited Kreacher from Kreacher's Mistress - Sirius' mother. Kreacher never liked Potter, but still Kreacher must do everything Potter demanded. Kreacher had no choice.

"Potter wanted to send Kreacher to Hogwart's to serve the wand-carriers. Kreacher didn't want to go; he wanted to stay in Mistress' house with Mistress' mementos and memories until he died. It didn't matter what Kreacher wanted, if Potter said 'go', then Kreacher would go. Mas... Jadin and Impmon convinced him to let Kreacher stay with the muggle family, and Impmon. After Impmon explained all about partnership, and told of his world, then Kreacher knew he wanted the same things, that Kreacher wanted to start over again in the Digital World where there are no wand-carriers".

"I don't know, I've never heard of Outworlder immigration. I don't know if..."

"Don't make Kreacher go back there!", his eyes were getting misty at the thought. "Kreacher has no place back there".

"How do we know he can't stay?", Impmon asked. "Persecution is grounds for refugee status".

"Yes, but that applies to refugees from other Zones".

"Is there anything that specifically says it _doesn't_ apply to Outworlders?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but no one considered the possibility".

"Well, there you go, it's a start".

"Well, I suppose, but Kreacher would have to learn to read and write digicode, respect our laws and customs, then find employment... but what could an Outworlder do for a living?"

"Kreacher will do what Kreacher must!", he insisted.

"Can he stay here, then, until he gets acclimated?", Impmon asked.

"That's not a problem. It's this keeping of an Outworlder. We'll do our best, but no promises".

"Kreacher thanks".

"I just hope you realize what you're letting yourself in for. It's not going to be easy..."

"Kreacher will do his best".

"You're that determined, are you?"

"Kreacher is. Kreacher thanks".

"What's that you're wearing?", she asked, pointing at the locket.

"This belonged to Regulus Black. Kreacher liked Regulus, but he died. Before, Kreacher wanted it because it was Regulus'. Now Kreacher wants it so Kreacher never forgets that he was once a slave. Here, in this world, Kreacher has a choice: obey or not".

"These wand-carriers, they're like Remus and Tonks?"

"They are: wizards, magi, witches, warlocks - all wand-carriers. All treat house elves like animals. Except for Hermione, but she's the only exception that Kreacher ever heard of".

"I think we may have a problem", Impmon's mother explained. "The Holy Beasts may have a problem entering into an alliance with the Wizarding World. They won't like the idea of fighting this Voldemort just so you can keep your slaves".

"I can assure you, Voldemort has no intention of freeing any house elves. His pure blood fanatics tend to treat house elves worse than any other magi. I'm sure Kreacher can confirm that, and he won't just be saying that since the binding enchantment didn't cross the Frontier. Oh, he'll make promises of all sorts. Take me, for example: I am a werewolf..."

"I thought that werewolves..."

"Were fictional. yes, I know. We really do exist. The wizarding community never accepted my kind. In the Wizarding World, we are relegated to the fringes, making our livings by stealing what we can, and, yes, hunting for prey. There are even laws and decrees that keep us locked out of full participation in wizarding world life. When I decided that I wasn't going to live that way, my prospects were grim.

"Professor Dumbledore was the one wizard who gave me a chance: I was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for a year. That lasted until word of my 'condition' got out. If I hadn't resigned, Dumbledore would have been left with no choice other than to dismiss me. Otherwise, Hogwart's would have had very few students in attendance. There are a lot of things wrong with how we are treated.

"I sought out employment with the muggles in a muggle career. This didn't make me very popular with either other weres, nor with magi. Weres accused me of looking down my nose at my fellow weres for thinking myself better than them. Magicals looked down on me for relying on muggles. Weres have largely sided with Voldemort. Why? He has promised us that we will no longer have to live on the margins of the Wizarding World. I still oppose him. Why? Because I know good and well that this promise was never made in good faith. Voldemort uses weres like the late Fenrir Grayback. He was Voldemort's assassin, he forced co-operation from key figures in the Ministry by threatening to attack their kids and turn them into werewolves too. However, Grayback wore the robes, but was never permitted to receive Voldemort's Dark Mark, to become fully one of his Death Eater followers. That, right there, tells me everything I need to know: under Voldemort, life for us weres is not going to improve. All of Voldemort's useful idiots will be the _first_ to be eliminated once he believes they have served his purpose. The same applies to house elves, goblins, and giants. Always the useful idiots, the fellow travelers, who are the first ones eliminated.

"I understand the issue over how house elves are used. There are some among us who do not approve, like Jadin's friend, Hermione Granger. Regardless: life for house elves will not improve one iota under Voldemort. Their lives, like those of magi and other beings will become _much_ worse. It is Voldemort's aim to greatly increase enslavement: not just for magi, magical beings, but also muggles, whom he considers fit for no other purpose but to be enslaved - or treated like game animals to be hunted for amusement.

"He will seek the same for digimon, and the complete subjugation of the entire Digital World. Is the Wizarding World perfect? No, of course it isn't. We've made a million and one mistakes and piled on some more. We've treated our non-human magical beings as less than human for all too long now. For all too long, we have actively encouraged blood bigotry within the ranks of magi ourselves. There are no end of things we could have done better. But, in the end, we stand a better chance to work on our faults. With Voldemort, we have _no_ chance at all. And neither do you. As much as Voldemort's followers look down on muggles, they will hold digimon in even greater contempt, as you are neither magical nor human. Your Sovereign will get a better deal from the Wizarding World, warts and all, than they will ever get from the self-styled Dark Lord.

"It is my hope that your Sovereign not judge us too harshly... for our sake as well as your own".

Activity was returning to the neighborhood. A group of yaamon bounced down the street. Their school must've let out. A group of them were playing a game in the street that looked a good deal like soccer, though it was not so easy to distinguish players from the ball.

Adult impmon began to arrive next. Then Impmon's father returned home, greeted by his mate? Wife? They didn't know what the relationship was.

"We have guests", announcing the obvious, as Remus, Tonks, and Jadin stood to greet. Jadin, he recognized.

"My friends from the Material World", Jadin introduced. "Remus Lupin and his wife, Nymphadora".

"Our pleasure", Remus said.

"You can call me Tonks".

"Jadin? Why did you bring Outworlders? I thought it was just the partners?"

"Unusual circumstances back home", he replied.

Remus and Tonks ran through the situation once again, as Impmon's mother was in the kitchen, preparing supper.

"I have connections of my own", Impmon explained. "We could use yours if we're to get transit permits and an audience with the Sovereign".

"I don't know... that's quite an order", Impmon's father replied. "Not exactly an easy thing, you know. It's always the important zone politicians or major lobbyists who get those permits and audiences. I don't know what I can really do".

"It's important", Jadin explained. "I don't know how much time they have left back in the Material World. If there's anything..."

"It's _always_ important. Every request for an audience is a matter of life and death. The bureaucrats are quite used to hearing that, and it doesn't have much impact. The average citizen, well, may be once in a great while, for image purposes, you understand. I don't want to get your hopes up. I don't know anyone that important".

"What're you doing?", it was Kreacher. He had come to see what was going on.

"Getting ready to cook up some meat apples for supper. We grow them out back".

"Kreacher cooked for Jadin and his family when he still lived in Mistress' house, can you show Kreacher?"

"Sure, it's not hard".

"Then maybe Kreacher can cook for you".

"Yes, you could, and it would be most appreciated".

"Ummmm... Fillet Mignon", Jadin said, as he took a taste of the meat apples. He, of course, had had the strange looking meat apples before, and so didn't share Remus' and 'Dora's reluctance to try them.

Remus took a tentative bite: "Porter House... rare, just like I like it". Being a were, Lupin definitely liked his steak very rare and bloody.

"Salisbury steak", Tonks disagreed.

"It's what you want it to be", Impmon explained. "More convenient that way".

"That's almost like magic", Remus replied.

"Except there are no spells involved", Impmon explained. "It's just a matter of programming, that's all".

For once, Kreacher didn't eat separately in the kitchen. Even at Grimmauld Place, he refused every request to join Jadin and his parents at the main table. He was beginning to understand freedom and equality: to no longer consider himself a mere servant.

After dinner, night fell. Remus and Tonks were out on the terrace overlooking the country side. One moment, it was light, and the next, completely dark. The glow-globes inside came on at that same instant. They had also noticed that there didn't seem to be any progression: no lengthening shadows, nothing to distinguish noon from evening.

"You have to understand: this is a _digital_ world", Impmon explained. "One or zero, on or off, yes or no... day or night. Morning, afternoon, evening - that's just so analog. You'll get used to it".

"There are some things I don't understand", Remus said.

"Like what?", Impmon asked.

"You say you don't have parents or family as we understand it, yet you call your... ummmm... parents 'Mother' and 'Father'?"

"Better than 'Hey you', don't you think? It's more for your convenience than an actual descriptor. To help you relate to things which are more familiar to you".

"If our magic still works, then how come Kreacher doesn't have the binding enchantment?"

"I don't know exactly. Remember, he was ultimately bound to Harry Potter, who didn't come with us. That would have made the enchantment superfluous, needless data, so it may have been discarded. Maybe that aspect of Kreacher's being is rolling around as a dust packet. Perhaps it was because Kreacher didn't want it - same result: it was discarded".

"Why eat?", Remus asked.

"Social convention more than anything else", Impmon explained. "Eat as much or as little, as often or as infrequently as you like. Food, water, sleep: these are necessities of bio-forms only. You don't have any biological necessities, since there is no biology here".

"Seems like something's missing", Tonks commented.

"You'll get used to it".

There was no more talk of politics, either Material or Digital World. They sampled the local entertainment fare. Impmon's mother and father readied the guest rooms.

News of Impmon's strange house guests spread quickly. It wasn't like Remus and Tonks were trying to conceal their presence. This afternoon, they were doing a bit of show 'n' tell for their curious neighbors, as this was a weekend. The Digital World seemed to borrow some aspects from the Material World.

"Go on, show 'em that nose trick", Jadin suggested to Tonks.

Tonks exchanged her human nose for a pig's snout to ooh's and ahh's. Some yaamon bounced up and down in delight.

"I'm a shape shifter", Tonks explained. "It's a natural ability that not all magi share. Same for being an animagus - one who can shape shift into the form of an animal. That, too, is a rare gift".

"Can I borrow your bandanna?", Remus requested of Impmon.

"Sure", as he untied it and handed it over.

"Now watch this", Remus said, as he cast a Transfiguration Charm. "Come, get a closer look".

They gathered around: "You really did it, not just a trick", one announced.

"Not just a trick, no. As I said, magic is real, though few know it where I'm from. Go on, it won't bite", he said as he let the others pet the baby rabbit he'd produced. He showed it to the yaamon, since they couldn't pet. Then he reversed the transformation and handed back the bandanna.

"Why don't you want anyone to know?", one asked. Remus explained about muggles, and the reasoning behind the Secrecy Law - that it was to protect muggles from being taken advantage of. That it protected the Wizarding World as well.

"Then how do you acquire magic?", another asked.

"We're not really sure", Tonks explained. "It's passed through families, down through the generations, but how it came about originally has been lost to history, I'm afraid".

"What do you mean?", the impmon asked, "Generations?", "Passed down?"

"Well, from your father or mother, when you're born..."

"Father? Mother? Born? What does that mean?"

Impmon explained: "The reproduction of Material World beings. They don't hatch from digieggs like we do. These are physical beings in their world, and the process is quite a bit different, as it involves matter and chemistry. Physical beings, like Remus and Tonks, store their data in a material medium called 'DNA'. Therefore, the process requires the exchange of that DNA before the data can express itself".

"Sounds pretty inefficient".

"It's just different. I'm sure they find our ways just as peculiar".

_London: 12 Grimmauld Place_

So far, their luck was holding, and the house at 12 Grimmauld Place had not been discovered yet. No Death Eaters, but no members of the Order had dropped by either. They were doing their best to not call any unwanted attention to their hide-out.

So far, they had been relieved to hear news from the Weasleys. The Death Eaters had been mainly interested in Harry Potter. They figured he'd be there, since it was well known that Ron was an associate and close friend. Since Harry had disguised himself, everyone interrogated who claimed they had not seen him were believed. Weasley relatives who claimed no knowledge of Barney had simply assumed that some other relatives had. This confusion confused these Death Eaters as well.

They weren't without a total lack of respect for a wedding, though they detained the guests who didn't disapparate in time until sunrise, they didn't mistreat anyone. Arthur came up with a plan: a ghoul was impersonating Ron, who was claimed to have been infected by Spattergroit. This being highly contageous, any Death Eaters would keep their distance. This would account for Ron's absence from Hogwart's. There was no cure for Spattergroit, other than time and bed rest.

"Here they come", Harry reminded. After a week of re-con, the marks had been identified. Harry, Ron, and Hermione struck from the old theatre across the street from the other old warehouse that disguised the offices of the Ministry.

Harry struck from beneath the Cloak of Invisibility, silently casting the Stunning Spell. A quick wave of the Cloak, and both were gone before anyone noticed.

Hermione, still wearing the floaty, nearly transparent, lilac gown, this time, sans underwear and positioned just so in front of the rising sun, greeted Reginald Cattermole. He got a treat, but not the one he was expecting: one of Fred Weasley's Puking Pustules from his Skiving Snackbox collection, and it didn't take much to convince him that St. Mungo's would be a good idea. He didn't notice her use of the Summoning Charm to lift his wallet and wand, and a lock of hair.

Now Ron had his impersonation.

Ron hit the last mark, also with a Stunner.

"Get their wands and IDs", Harry reminded.

After Polyjuice treatment, Harry was now Albert Runcorn.

Ron was Reginald Cattermole.

Hermione, Mafalda Hopkirk.

Stunned, silenced, and body bound, the real Albert Runcorn and Mafalda Hopkirk were stashed in an old, closed theatre across the street. Even if they did call out, there wasn't much chance of their being heard any time soon. By then, the trio of infiltrators would be long gone.

"Wands and IDs, please", the security guard at the employee's entrance requested.

Harry turned over Runcorn's wand and ID, which got just the most cursory of inspections.

"Excuse me, Mr. Runcorn, Sir", some unknown underling apologized profusely for accidentally running into him as he crossed the now crowded Atrium.

"Don't worry yourself about it", Harry told him. It would seem this Runcorn was someone of considerable importance. Good, it would make things a helluvalot easier. ...

"Malfalda!", Umbridge called out. "I was expecting you at my office as soon as you arrived".

"Ma'am?"

"Have you forgotten? We have a heavy case load today".

"I so sorry, Ma'am, it must've slipped my mind somehow. I won't let it happen again".

"See that it doesn't, you may be one of my best court reporters, but, my dear, you are not irreplaceable".

"That's an interesting brooch you're wearing today", Hermione commented.

"I wear it every day, my dear, you know that".

"Family heirloom?"

"But of course, I've told you this before. The 'S' is for "Selwyn", an old pure blood family. I'm related to the Selwyns, and there are few pure blood families I'm not related to. Why do you ask? Is there something wrong?"

Umbridge could never pass up the chance to brag about this Selwyn connection, and the "family heirloom". Hermione wondered what she'd say if she pointed out that it really was Slytherin's Locket, not hers.

"I'm just a bit scatter-brained this morning. Must've been up too late last night, going over our case loads".

"While I appreciate dedication, I also need you fresh and alert. Otherwise, you are of no use to me".

"Just thinking of my future".

"My dear, you have no need to worry about that. Your future with the New Order is assured".

"Thank you for saying that" …

"Cattermole! Just the one I want to see"

Ron was horrified to be addressed by the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, the Death Eater Yaxley

"S... Sir?"

"It's raining in my office, and since you're Head of the Maintenance Department, I'd like for you to look into it at once"

"I'll put it on my schedule..."

"I should think that when the Head of the Office of Magical Law Enforcement tells you he needs a job done ASAP, that you would do it. _Especially_ when it turns out that you've married a Mudblood, not that any wife of mine would be of such filth. Am I making myself clear here Cattermole?

"Yes, sir". …

"Good morning, Albert", someone Harry didn't know got on the lift at the last second.

"Mornin'", Harry replied.

"Say, that was some excellent detective work", the passenger offered, "discovering Dirk Cresswell's muggle background".

"That's why they pay me the big Galleons".

"These pure blood impersonators are the worst".

Harry figured this Albert Runcorn was a time server. One to follow orders and who wasn't particularly concerned about who was giving them. He was on his way to the offices of the Directrix of the Muggle Born Registration Commission, one Dolores Umbridge. He had his justification handed to him right then and there if anyone happened to be questioning why he was searching Umbridge's offices.

"You won't get any arguments from me".

_Digital World: Heightonview Terrace_

"Well, we're off", Impmon's father explained. "To Central City to see about transit permits". He and Impmon were going to start the process. They had no idea how long they'd be gone.

"Good luck", Jadin said.

"I'll need it", Impmon replied.

Remus and Tonks took the opportunity to explore the suburb with Jadin. Kreacher stayed behind, as Impmon's mother was going to show him how to operate the computer in the study, to begin his first home school lesson in digicode literacy. They met up with a couple pushing a pram. Inside was what looked like a small purple ball: black eyes, small mouth, and two cat-like ears.

"Kiimon", Jadin explained to Remus and Tonks. They already guessed that this one was at the Fresh level.

"Just back from the Primary Village a couple of days ago. We couldn't be more thrilled", the new parents explained. Kiimon looked up at the strange creatures with curious eyes. Then it did something unexpected: it spoke.

"Who're you?", the fresh digimon asked.

"Ummmm... Remus Lupin..."

"I'm Tonks. Pleased to meet you, and your parents".

"What are you?", Kiimon asked.

"We're human - from the Material World", Jadin explained. That would have to do for an explanation.

As they departed: "I wasn't expecting that", Tonks said.

"You have to remember that digimon life cycles are determined by data accumulation, not time. All digimon start out with at least the basic necessities, and more is added on later. That can be through education, or loading data from defeated enemies. These days, it's more the former than the latter. It wasn't always so", Jadin explained.

"That seems kinda harsh, doesn't it?"

"That's the Law of the Digital World, how digimon were originally designed before evolving to self awareness".

They became aware of a buzzing sound. Remus and Tonks knew, at least, that this wasn't a good thing, judging by how the others on the street were running, some into nearby houses, others for whatever shelter they could find. Jadin took out his digivice to run a profile:

_Kuwagamon  
>Feral Insect Digimon<br>Champion level  
>Virus<br>His attack is Scissor Arms_

"Oh shit!", Jadin said. "If we don't stop that damn thing...". He understood why they ran: Kuwagamon's tough exoskeleton could easily stand up to whatever the impmon could throw at it.

Remus and Tonks pulled their wands out: "Petrificus totalis!". The twin jets of red struck the thing as it came straight at them. It froze, wings in mid-stroke, as it began to glide. It hit the street, kept going until it came to rest in a front yard. The sudden cessation of the buzzing wings brought out the first neighbours for a tentative look. Word spread quickly that the danger had passed. They began to crowd around to look at the totally inert form. They had no explanation for something they had never seen before.

"You didn't delete it?", one finally asked.

"No, we used a Stunning Spell. It'll be out like that for a good long while", Remus replied.

"I didn't know Outworlders had attacks", another said.

"It's a rare gift, actually", Tonks told him. "Not all Outworlders can".

"We'll always be grateful that you do".

"What I don't understand is why?", Tonks said.

"Not all digimon are like Impmon, that is to say sapient. There are feral digimon that act like wild animals. Who knows what brought Kuwagamon here? Like how bears sometimes wander into suburban neighborhoods back in the 'States", Jadin explained.

There was the sound of an approaching siren. A large box van pulled into view, its light bars flashing alternate blue and red. Obviously official. Right behind it, another vehicle.

"Looks like we have a diplomatic opportunity", Lupin said.

The official van came to a stop, and they guessed the officer in charge was the one asking all the questions.

"What happened here? We don't often take them back alive"

Remus and Tonks explained about Stunning Spells while the rest of the crew attached chains to the inert Kuwagamon, and winched it into the back. The only damage done: scuff marks on the front lawn.

The second van: reporters. They'd set up a live video feed, and were eager to interview the neighbors, and especially the Outworlders.

"I understand you brought down the attacking Kuwagamon with some sort of Outworlder attack? Is that right?" Lupin had consented to an on the record interview.

Lupin and Tonks described what they saw and did. They were sure to emphasize that not all Outworlders had these "attacks", as they knew they wouldn't understand magic, and so why bother to mention it unless asked.

"So these attacks you described only disable?"

"Not all of them, there is one lethal attack, the 'Avada Kadavra', but its usage is strictly proscribed, and only in cases of self-defense, or defense of others, where there is no other choice. That's why we just stunned that insect digimon, rather than destroy it. We couldn't be sure we weren't killing an intelligent, but misguided, digimon".

"Tell us more about these Outworld attacks".

"My wife and I are magi", Lupin began to explain. "We have these abilities which we call 'magic'. It is both an innate ability that you acquire at birth, and also a skill that needs education and practice to master. Some spells are easier than others, and some may take months or even years to perfect. Stunning spells are among the easier spells to master, and definitely come in handy. There are many other types of spells that you couldn't describe as attacks".

Lupin went into a description of the Wizarding World, its reluctance to embrace muggle technology, which is why the Digital World was unaware of its existence, as the digimon wouldn't encounter it on-line. They explained their reason for coming, as that inevitably came up. Remus expressed his hope that he and his companions would be received by the Digimon Sovereign.

_London: Ministry of Magic_

"C'mon! Move your asses!", Harry ordered the twenty muggle-born "defendants" to make good their escape amidst the confusion. Ron and Harry stunned the bailiff and the Head Judge: Dolores Umbridge. Hermione ran off the dementor guard with her otter patronus, the first time she'd done so outside of Harry's informal defense lessons. She also switched the real locket for one of the many copies that were readily available. Hopefully, Umbridge wouldn't figure it out. Now, the first alarms were going off.

"When you get out of here", Harry was explaining, "get out of the country. Get out and stay out so long as Youknowwho is running Britain's Ministry. It's your only chance".

"Seal the exits!", Harry heard one of Voldemort's aurors give the order.

"Not so fast", Harry said. "This lot needs to leave before you seal the exits".

"I have my orders..."

"Are you contradicting me?", he asked, incredulous. "How would _your_ family history stand up to scrutiny? Better than Cresswell's I trust?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Runcorn, I didn't recognize you at first".

He delayed long enough for the muggle-born prisoners to escape via the lobby fireplaces.

"Seal the exits this instant!", it was Yaxley, "and arrest these imposters!", he ordered as he came running across the lobby.

The confusion of this auror bought just enough time, almost.

"Relashio!", Hermione cast the spell as they were disapparating. Yaxley had almost pulled them back. They apparated to just outside the front door.

"Quickly!", she called out, "grab what you need and let's get out of here. I'm sure Yaxley knows were we were going!"

It was just a matter of minutes now...

Back to the front door to disapparate.

"Where'd we land?", Ron was the first to ask.

"Just outside Ottery St. Catchpole", Hermione told him.

"We can't go to the Burrow! You know that!", Ron protested.

"We're not. Xeno and Luna live here too..."

"So?", Ron asked.

"That symbol: we need to find out what that means. It might be important, and who better to explain it?"

"Except Xeno is as looney as his daughter", Ron said as he slipped Slytherin's Locket around his neck. "What makes you think he won't tell us a load of bullshit, like with that Crumple Horned Snorkack he's always going off about?"

"What're you doing?", Harry asked.

"We went to all that trouble to get it, and I'll be damned if we lose it. If it's in our rucksacks, or your purse, it could get lost or stolen and we may never find it again. I say we take turns wearing it, that way, it won't get lost or stolen".

"I think you're judging Xeno too harshly", Hermione protested. "Jadin thought highly of Luna, didn't he? Besides, didn't he help with turning the tide of public opinion in favour of the Professor and Harry?

"What do we have to lose? Either he knows something, or he doesn't. At worst, we'll be no worse off. The Professor either drew that symbol in my book, or he was aware that someone did, and he meant for us to see it. Of that much, I'm certain".


	23. Xeno and the Symbol

**23) Xeno and the Symbol**

The Lovegood home stood on a hill, past which ran a brook. The house itself, uniformly dark and in the shape of a rook chess piece. The location was on the opposite side of the town as the Burrow.

"You're Arthur's son?", Xeno greeted as he answered the door. The Lovegoods and Weasleys were well acquainted.

"Ron, Mr. Lovegood".

"And Hermione Granger... Your boyfriend had the digimon partner", Lovegood greeted.

"Harry. Harry Potter. I don't think we've met", he lied. "I know Luna from school..."

"She wrote about what happened at the Dept of Mysteries... so sorry about your godfather".

"Thanks", Harry replied. It was still a touchy subject that he didn't like being reminded of.

"Come in, cone in and make yourselves to home", he invited. "So what brings you here? Think it's a good idea? What with the disgraceful conduct of those Death Eaters at Bill's wedding".

"We dropped by to ask you something", Hermione began.

"Where's Luna?", Harry asked.

"She's down by the brook, catching crayfish for supper. Should be back any time now", he replied. "So what was it that's so important it brings you back to the scene of the crime?"

Hermione dug into her beaded bag for her copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_.

"This", she pointed to the symbol drawn there. "You were wearing a pendant that was identical to this for the wedding..."

"Come on upstairs", he invited, as he led the way to the upper floor where he did all of his writing and research.

There was clutter everywhere, and a printing press in the corner that got out editions of _The Quibbler_. He was still working on an unfinished replica of the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw Luna had told them about that bore not the slightest trace of resemblance to the real thing. She looked horrified at the large, gray four foot long horn mounted to a plaque he displayed proudly on his wall.

"You should get rid of that thing!", she called out. "It's dangerous".

The others wondered why.

"My first concrete evidence for the Crumple Horned Snorkack?"

"It's not", Hermione insisted. "That's an erumpent horn..."

"I can assure you, it may look very similar..."

"No, Mr. Lovegood. See this spiral design at the base? That's characteristic of an erumpent horn. Those things have been known to explode spontaneously, and the fresher they are, the more dangerous. Disturb it, and you could lose half the house".

This horn was fresh indeed, and unusually large. The problem with erumpent horns was the way they grew: with enormous sheer forces inside that tried to tear them apart, much like the explosive Rupert's Drops, the reason why large rolls of paper needed to be rolled with a carefully controlled uniform tension, or the same principle that made safety glass shatter into tiny fragments instead of dagger-like shards. These internal stresses would relieve themselves, given enough time. Older erumpent horns were quite harmless, but that wasn't the case here.

"Your concern is misplaced", Xeno insisted, "I have been studying the Crumple Horned Snorkack for years now, and they are quite harmless. The collector from whom I acquired it is most trustworthy".

"Maybe, but at least store it away from the house? If you're right and I'm wrong, no harm done. If I'm right, you could be saving your house, and even your lives. At least consider it, please?"

"You wanted to know about my pendant?", Xeno wasn't going to hear any more on that subject. Xeno wanted to believe in the existence of the Crumple Horned Snorkack every bit as much as he _didn't_ want to believe he was had.

"What can you tell us?", Harry asked.

"You're familiar with the story of the Three Brothers?"

"Well, yeah, who isn't?", Ron asked.

"Well, I haven't", Harry said, to the surprise of Hermione and Ron. "The Dursleys wouldn't tell me anything", he explained.

"Very well", Mr. Lovegood began to recount the story:

"Three brothers come to a bridge they need to cross, only to meet a stranger who tells them they can't pass. They insist, but this stranger they are certain they never met before is adamant that he will not let them cross the bridge.

"Finally, the biggest, strongest brother offers to wrestle the stranger. If he wins, they pass. If he loses, they go back the way they came. The stranger is agreeable to these terms, and so the wrestling match begins. The match goes back and forth, neither getting the best of the other. The stranger seems equally matched with the area's best wrestler. Finally, the brother pins the stranger and wins.

"The stranger then reveals his true identity: he is Death. But, having won fair and square, Death promises each brother one thing. The strongest brother asks for a wand that can not be beaten. Death snaps a branch from an Elder tree and fashions for him a wand that can't be defeated, and this brother passes across the bridge.

"The next brother asks Death if there is any way to bring back the woman he was to marry, but who died on their wedding day. Death picks a black stone from the bed of the river, and fashions it into what he calls a "stone of resurrection". All he needs to do is turn it three times, and she will return. He crosses the bridge.

"The last brother asks for Death's Cloak. This will allow him to conceal himself from Death. If Death can not find him, then he can not die.

"The first brother finds it is as promised. His Elder Wand can not be bested in the duels he challenged all those he believed wronged him all his life. He feels himself invincible until one of the brothers of one of his dueling victims sneaks into his bedroom and strikes off his head in his sleep. He claimed the Elder Wand, and from that day since, the Elder Wand has changed hands only by violent conquest.

"The second brother brings back his bride, who doesn't even realize it's been five years. The brother is so overjoyed that he immediately sends for his life-long best friend to share the wonderful news.

"The best friend is less than pleased, to the brother's great surprise. It comes out that the 'best friend' wanted his friend's bride, and if he couldn't have her, no one would. She died of the poison the brother's friend slipped into the bride's drink. There is a fight, the brother is killed, and his bride returns to the Land of the Dead. The friend, seeing what he's done, hangs himself.

"The third and final brother lives to a very ripe old age. After many years pass, he gives Death's Cloak to his son, and goes off to seek Death. When they meet, the brother greets Death as one would greet an old friend, and on an equal basis".

Xeno took out a sheet of paper and drew:

"The triangle symbolizes the Cloak", as he drew an equilateral triangle...

"The Elder Wand", as he added the vertical line...

"And the Resurrection Stone", finishing with the circle: "The Deathly Hallows. It is said that whoever reunites all three hallows will become the Master of Death. This is the meaning of that symbol: the Deathly Hallows reunited. A lot of us wear it to identify ourselves to our fellow seekers. That way, we can exchange news and information, ideas on where to search. That's why I wear it".

"What a load of tosh!", Ron objected. "That... that... that's a fairy tale! Beedle the Bard wrote _dozen__s_ of these stories. They're _kids' _tales".

"How many so-called fairy tales, myths, and legends have proved to have a basis in fact?"

"I'm sure there are ancient wands still in existence today", Hermione said. "Even if extraordinarily powerful, the wand is still no better than the wizard who wields it. That doesn't mean that the Resurrection Stone and Death's Cloak are still out there. 'Master of Death': what does that even mean?"

"It saddens me to see one so young so cynical, so committed to narrow, logical, and linear thinking. You have assassinated your imagination. It would do you well to at least pry what is an obviously superior mind open just a little bit", Xeno admonished.

"There are cloaks that can conceal the wearer from view, but the charms wear off quickly, and the fabric deteriorates. What would a cloak that made one truly invisible, with no trace of any optic distortion of what appears behind it, that's both durable and light and supple as a butterfly's wing be worth? How many Galleons would it fetch at auction?"

"There may be rare and powerful artifacts. But I _highly _doubt they came from the hand of Death himself. They came from extraordinary magi who very well may have some lost knowledge that we can't replicate today", Hermione shook her head. "That story has been around forever in one form or another. It isn't even original. Muggles tell variations of it and I heard them from my parents or read them in muggle school. Like Ron pointed out, Beedle the Bard wrote lots of stories, are all of them true?"

"What about this Grindelwald connection?", Ron asked. "Why was Viktor so pissed off when he saw you wearing it?"

"You shall have your answers here", as he handed over a book: _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore _by Rita Skeeter. "It's an advance copy given to the publishers of journals for book reviews", he explained.

Hermione had heard about it. She knew that this book had to have been mostly pre-written for it to have come out so soon after Dumbledore's death. There was something distasteful, something vulture-like, in that: just waiting for the elderly wizard to kick off so she could beat other publishers to the book rack. Needless to say, none of them had any great reason to trust Rita Skeeter. Hermione never bothered to get a copy since she knew its contents already: a hit piece that would drag Dumbledore's reputation through mountains of mud, using her usual intellectually dishonest tactics. All to create "buzz", and a sensation that would move books. If the truth didn't help sell books, then truth took a back seat. That was Skeeter's M. O.

"Thanks, I'll give it a look-see", she promised as she slipped in into the hand bag.

"Say, shouldn't Luna have been back by now?", Harry asked. "It's getting awful late".

_Digital World: Heightonview Terrace_

Impmon and his Outworlder guests and partner, except for Kreacher, who was busy with his latest digicode literacy lesson, were hanging out in the back yard. It had been another day of bureaucratic run-around. They'd already filled out more forms, been to so many interviews, some arranged as special favours, and were no closer to an audience than they'd been the day they'd arrived.

"You'd think they'd be a bit more accommodating", Remus complained. "After all, it's the fate of _their_ world at stake".

"I know that, and you know that", Impmon said. "However, _every_ petition claims the same thing: fate of the world hangs in the balance. I wish I could tell you we do things differently, but some things are distressingly like the Material World, and government and bureaucracy are two of those things".

Tonks was the first to notice: "What the...?", she asked. A half dozen white lights meandered about, floating, moving at random..

"What's this?", she finally asked.

"Proof that digimon aren't the only virtual lifeforms here", Impmon replied.

The white lights resolved themselves into what looked somewhat like owls. So white that they seemed to glow, except for black eyes, ear-like horns, and a thin plume that extended from the tops of their heads that was longer than their entire bodies. They chittered softly as they flew.

"Ancient Ones", Impmon didn't have time to finish his explanation.

They flew in circles around Impmon and his companions. Their vision went all watery, they seemed about to pass out. Then, a new landscape. This one, devoid of all colour, save for one: everything was various shades of blue.

"What just happened..."

"Look!" Impmon was pointing. The Ancient Ones flew in a 'V' formation. "This way!", Impmon said, as he began to follow in the same direction.

"Impmon...", Remus began.

"The Ancient Ones don't seem willing to wait for the wheels of government to turn slowly. We made it: the Top Layer, the realm of the Sovereign themselves".

"Who... what are these 'Ancient Ones'", Tonks asked.

"No one really knows", Impmon explained. "We do know they were here first, before the first digimon. We don't know where they came from. They could be as old as the Digital World itself. They have some unusual abilities, such as being able to cross the Frontier effortlessly. They have a language all their own - you heard it - that has so far defied translation. They have to communicate with sign and body language. That's why they were flying in formation: they want us to go this way. They can transform matter: that's how Jadin came by his digivice".

"It was originally a scientific calculator", Jadin added. "It glowed white, then when the light disappeared, I had this instead", as he showed the digivice.

"If we could understand them better, we would understand our world better", Impmon said.

"I don't understand why, though", Remus said.

"The Ancient Ones help preserve the Digital World. They don't always intervene, so it's not like we don't have to make our own efforts. They don't always prevent us from screwing up either. Like I said, I don't know why they decided to act. We can't exactly ask them".

Tonks looked around. The whole landscape as far as she could see looked very desolate. A wasteland of dust and sand, broken rock, studded with tall, thin rectangular columns of rock like basalt. Many of these had already fallen down, breaking into irregular blocks, their stems still jutting upwards from the dusty ground. A land of wind blown dust packets and not a spec of vegetation to be seen anywhere. A few thin clouds in the sky that promised no rain. It looked like nothing could possibly live here. Or would want to live here.

"Not what I'd expect of the realm of any sovereign. Couldn't imagine Voldemort approving..."

"Except that our Sovereign aren't complete egotistical, megalomaniacal, sociopaths", Impmon protested. "They have their own ways of doing things. Every digimon shapes the environment to suit their needs, and this is that choice".

"What makes you think we will be received?". Jadin asked. "You don't just drop in, do you?"

"I was wondering the same", Remus added. He was concerned: this wasn't a good way to begin a diplomatic mission.

"One thing we have strongly in our favour is that the Ancient Ones brought us. They don't do that for everyone, and they certainly don't intervene for something like settling the latest trade dispute between zones, or politicians begging favours for some pet project for a big name lobbyist. Even the Sovereign take the Ancient Ones very seriously".

They walked through the monotonous blue landscape until they came to a raised platform. They guesstimated they'd been walking for fifteen minutes. The structure was obviously artificial: a wide plaza made from large, maybe five, six feet on a side, blood red tiles. These tiles fit together without grout or mortar. Perfectly level. The plaza extended as far as they could see. Off in the distance, they could hear the cascade of water. There was also a red glow on the horizon, like the last afterglow of a perpetual sunset.

Crossing the expansive plaza, they came to an artificial canyon. It looked to be a couple hundred yards, at least, across. There was no guard rail, and the walls of this canyon dropped vertically. An immense waterfall cascaded from the far side, dropping into depths they could not see for the rising mist. A half mile off to their left was the only way across they could see: the twin bows of a suspension bridge. It would be a longer walk, as the whole canyon gently curved in a wide arc. The bridge led to another structure looking like half an ellipsoid studded with spikes.

The support pillars and arches of the bridge appeared to be completely superfluous, as the roadway was composed of roughly oval, flat stones of the same colour as the rest of the courtyard, but had no means of support, no connection to the overhead arches that they could see. Like the canyon, there were no guard rails. The support pillars were in the shape of digitigrade feet and ankles that rose to a zig-zag from which projected curved horns that formed an overhead arch.

_Ottery St. Catchpole: Lovegood Residence_

"Please! I... I had no choice!", Xeno pleaded. "They took my Luna! They said they'll kill her if I didn't alert them!" Lovegood confessed his betrayal at the last second.

"Everyone! Back upstairs!", Hemione ordered. "Ron: stay out of sight!"

"Stupify!", the first Death Eater through the door fired.

"Protego!", Hermione deflected the attack. She was about half way down the stairs.

"Get them!", one ordered. "Take them alive, or you'll answer to the Dark Lord!"

There were too many of them, and no where else to retreat. They followed.

One pointed his wand: "No! Don't...", Hermione tried to warn. "GET DOWN!"

The Stunning Spell missed, but hit the erumpent horn, which exploded in a blast that blew out a fourth of the room, destroying the printing press. There wouldn't be any issues of _The Quibbler_ for a good long while. It also helped even up the odds.

"Harry! Give your Cloak to Ron. Ron: put it on", she ordered.

"What're you have in mind?", Harry asked, as Hermione retrieved Xeno's broom from the wreckage.

"You're the Seeker, you drive", Hermione told him, as she tossed him the broom.

"Confringo!", she blew an enormous hole in the floor.

"Potter!", one called out from below. "Don't let him get away!", he ordered.

"Now, Harry, let them get a good look at you", she said as she and Ron mounted the broom, and Harry flew it through the hole the explosion made. He circled the house before heading away from the town, and towards the surrounding countryside.

"I kept my end of the bargain...", Xeno was saying.

"And then you set a bomb after luring us here", one of the Death Eaters complained. "You and your daughter might be fortunate enough to be granted a painless execution, but I doubt it".

"That wasn't a bomb!", Xeno pleaded. "It was your man who foolishly cast a spell that hit a fresh erumpent horn. You said to call the instant Potter and his friends showed up, and that's what I did. When will you be sending Luna back?"

"Just what were you doing with an erumpent horn?"

"I thought it was from the Crumple Horned Snorkack. That's what I was trying to determine when Potter came".

"You get my men killed over your Crumple! Horned! Snorkack!", he emphasized each word with the Cruciatus.

"Please! My Luna... you saw for yourselves that Potter was here. I did as you asked. I kept up my end of the bargain... Please..."

"We still don't have Potter, and you're not getting your daughter back. _That_ was the bargain: Potter for your daughter".

"Please..."

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Bloody hell was that all about?", Ron asked.

They'd set up a camp in the woods. The pup tent Hermione brought was much larger on the inside than the outside, and well appointed with furnishings. They also had a security perimeter to avoid detection.

"You're supposed to be at the Burrow, down with Spattergroit, remember? Wouldn't look good to have those assholes reporting back that they saw you looking fit and healthy away from the Burrow. Wouldn't do your parents any good, would it?", Hermione explained.

"I'm hoping that letting the Death Eaters get a real good look at Harry will convince them that Mr. Lovegood did what they asked, that he really did call them in for a legitimate reason. But now... I just don't know. When that erumpent horn blew up, it doesn't look good for Xeno... or Luna for that matter".

"What are you saying?", Ron asked.

"It wouldn't surprise me if they were both executed. These Death Eaters... they aren't known for their sense of fair play. Even if it was their own damn fault, would they accept the blame for failing to bring Harry to Youknowwho? Or will they lay all the blame on Xeno and Luna?"

"You don't think they would...", Ron asked

"I wouldn't put anything past them", Hermione replied. "I hope I'm wrong".

"What about these Deathly Hallows?", Harry asked. "How do they figure?"

"I don't see the relevance", Hermione replied. "I wouldn't put it as indelicately as Ron, but the Lovegoods do seem given to flights of fancy. Really? I know all the stories, I read them when I was a First Year. I've been through the book, and there are no secret codes, no cryptic dog eared pages, no letters circled or crossed out, or anything like that. Nothing hidden in the bindings.

"Our first order of business should be the destruction of the Locket. For that, we need the Sword. That's what we should be concentrating on finding".

"Then why did the Professor draw the symbol of the Deathly Hallows in your book?"

"We don't know he did. Mr. Lovegood said a lot of people were looking for those Hallows. Anyone could have drawn it. We don't know it held any significance for the Professor. It could just be a coincidence".

"Then how do you explain the Professor's reason? Didn't he specifically say that you should find it instructive?"

"That was one of the reasons Beedle the Bard wrote his stories: moral lessons for children. He knew I like books, and thought I'd appreciate an early edition written in the original runes.

"Look at the story of the Three Brothers: what is it trying to tell us?", Hermione didn't wait for an answer. "The first brother wanted revenge, and to become the greatest wand dueler. He got what he thought he wanted, but didn't consider that others might want revenge on him. He died before his time.

"The second brother wanted to undo a loss he hadn't come to terms with. As a result, three lives were destroyed. The only brother who had a happy ending was the only brother who didn't attempt to cheat fate.

"Isn't that the lesson? Be careful for what you wish because you just might get it? That that which you think you desire the most really isn't what you need? Beware the Law of Unintended Consequences? Doesn't that apply to this 'quest' we inherited from the Professor? It's highly likely that's what he had in mind when he left me that book".

"You heard what Mr. Lovegood said about the Cloak? Where have we seen that before?", Ron objected.

"You're saying Harry's cloak is a Deathly Hallow? You're forgetting that Beedle the Bard didn't include detailed descriptions. That proves nothing".

"Maybe there are other sources that do mention what the Hallows look like?", Ron counter objected.

"And that's how myths and legends grow over time, with each retelling of the tale", Hermione pointed out.

"My father originally had the cloak, and Sirius sent it to me. Who knows how long it's been in the family?", Harry added.

"Like I told Mr. Lovegood, I'm sure there are many rare artifacts being passed down the generations as old family heirlooms that we don't know about. Some could be quite ancient, and even quite powerful".

"Yannow", Ron said, "maybe you should be more like your new boyfriend: Jadin. He was open minded enough to consider the possibility that magic just might be real despite everything that told him different. Maybe Mr. Lovegood was right: you are too logical and linear in your thinking".

"Maybe, but I'll need to see more evidence, and I'm still not seeing how any of this has anything to do with Youknowwho and his youknowwhats".

Harry lay in his bunk, but wasn't even trying to sleep. He had the Golden Snitch with its gossamer wings drooping, and something rattling around inside. He turned around this way and that, but nothing happened. It wasn't opening, and nothing to give away what was inside. It seemed to be a solid piece of something...

He pressed it to his lips, as he recalled that he didn't catch his first snitch with his hand. The thing flew into his mouth, almost choking him on it. Still, it refused to open. He examined it closer and discovered the message: "I open at the close", just as the letters were fading.

"I open at the close", he said out loud. "Fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"Good night, Harry", Hermione said from her bunk.


	24. The Digimon in the Cottage

**24) The Digimon in the Cottage**

_Upon the ratification of the International Statute of Secrecy of 1689, magi went into permanent hiding. It was natural that they would form small communities within larger communities. Many small villages and hamlets became attractive to many wizarding families, who banded together for mutual support and protection. The villages of Tinsworth in Cornwall, Upper Flagley in Yorkshire, Ottery St. Catchpole on the southern coast were all notable homes to Wizarding families who lived along side understanding and supportive muggles. Most celebrated of these mixed magical communities is, of course, Godric's Hollow, the West Country village where the great wizard, Godric Gryffindor, was born. Godric was a valuable member of the community, esteemed equally by its muggle and magical citizens. The place where Bowman Wright, wizarding smith, cast the first Golden Snitch. The roads, the local elementary school, the graveyard feature names of ancient magical families, and this accounts, no doubt, for the many stories of hauntings that have dogged the church beside it for several centuries_

_A History of Magic / Bathilda Bagshot_

This is how they came to Godric's Hollow. Where best to start where it all began in the first place? They had the horcrux, but no means to destroy it. For that, they needed the Sword. Since it was a goblin made artifact, like every other goblin made weapon, it took on that which made it stronger. Since Harry had used it to kill the basilisk, and had used a basilisk fang to destroy Tom Riddle's diary, it was logical that the Sword could get the job done when everything else had failed.

One muggle book that Hermione had not read was _Lord of the Rings_. Had she done so, then maybe she could have avoided Ron's big mistake: the suggestion that they take turns actually wearing Slytherin's Locket. Being that this was a horcrux, its malignant influence had taken its toll. Ron was the most susceptible, and this had resulted in a nasty fight.

At first, Ron became paranoid that Harry and Hermione were talking about him when they thought he wouldn't hear. Small everyday incidents, a paused conversation when Ron arrived, or an excused absence, became, to Ron, plots against him. All along, Ron believed in his insecurity that Hermione and Harry looked down on him. Hermione, because she did better at academics than he. Harry for being Dumbledore's teacher's pet, the Boy Who Lived. Ron also had a problem of stage fright. On the Quidditch pitch, he played Keeper brilliantly during practice when it was just his team mates. He could barely play at all when the stands were filled with spectators.

Ron also had an assholish streak: the way he behaved for a month during the Triwizard Tournament when Hogwart's hosted it. Ron would not believe that the then fourteen year old Harry had not put one over to get himself entered. When Harry told him the truth: that he did not know how his name came to be in the Goblet of Fire that chose the champions, nor how the Goblet chose him, nor why Hogwart's was allowed two champions to one each from Durmstrang and Beaux Batons, Ron accused Harry of holding back. Ron organized an anti-Harry campaign, complete with buttons that would display pro-Cedric Diggory messages when viewed by any one other than Harry. Harry always saw: "POTTER SUX", and similar messages.

It had started with Ron's accusation that Harry either didn't know what he was doing, or that he wasn't being totally honest with Ron, despite his assurance that he had told them everything. From there, it escalated. Hermione tried being the reasonable peace-maker, only to find herself taking it from both ends. But for her Shield Charm, Harry and Ron just might have traded curses, or worse. In the end, Ron dispparated for parts unknown, with a nasty comment to Hermione when she refused to go with him.

If it was the sword they were after, Hermione and Harry reasoned, what better place to look for it? Bathilda Bagshot, though very old by now, still called Godric's Hollow home. Perhaps she held some vital clue Dumbledore left? Of course, they could not just pop into the place where Harry's parents had lived and died, as they figured Voldemort might expect that. Might Death Eaters be on the look-out? It was a definite possibility. Hermione suggested Polyjuice, and had procured the necessary hair. Still, this wasn't a complete solution. Godric's Hollow was a small town where unfamiliar faces stood out. Better to arrive under the cover of darkness.

Harry, transformed into a balding, middle aged man, and Hermione to his rather mousy wife, arrived by Apparition during the late evening, as the last of the twilight was fading into night. They were standing in a narrow lane, as the dark blue sky was showing the first stars. Cottages stood on both sides of the road. Up ahead, the golden glow of the sodium vapour street lights, marked what passed for "downtown".

It was very odd for Harry. Had it not been for Voldemort, he would call this place home. He would have spent his summers here, called locals his own age friends, maybe there would have been brothers and sisters. He looked at each cottage they passed. Did he remember any of them? Not too likely, as the last time he'd been here, he was just over a year old. Any one could very well have been the old Potter homestead, now occupied by residents who had no awareness of what happened one Halloween sixteen years ago. Or did they? The murder of an entire family and the disappearance of their one year old only child was something the likes of which just did not happen in places like Godric's Hollow. The incident would undoubtedly have become part of village lore.

The lane veered left, into a square. It had the usual: a post office, several stores, now closed, a pub from which they could hear a snatch of rock music as customers arrived and departed. A war memorial dominated the center of the square: an obelisk bearing the names of residents who'd given their lives in the Great War and the Greater War that followed.

A little church stood across the square, stained glass windows glowing like jewels in the approaching darkness. A faint hymn explained why the lights were on: an evening service was in progress. Behind the church, they could see the graveyard. Harry felt a chill: fear mixed with excitement. A connection to his past, but did he really want to see what he knew lay beyond? Hermione sensed his reticence, as she took him by the hand and led him across the square. They walked under the windows of the church, staying in the shadows and away from street lights as much as possible. Behind the church was the kissing gate that opened onto the cemetery.

One of the first names Harry saw, he recognized: Abbott - a well known wizarding family. As promised in Bathilda's chapter on Godric's Hollow.

"Have a look, Hermione", Harry pointed to an old grave. The marker bore the name of another, old pure blood family: Peverell. This family was the forerunners of the House of Gaunt among many others. It was the resting place of one Ignotus (12 July, 1214 - 7 Sept, 1325) The symbol of the Deathly Hallows decorated the old marker. "Do you still doubt?", he asked.

"Ummmm...", she wasn't so sure anymore, as she realized that Xeno's symbol was a good deal older than she suspected, or expected. "It could mean nothing more than that the Peverell brothers created some powerful magical artifacts, like I said before. Maybe they knew a trick or two they didn't see fit to pass onto future generations. No guarantee that symbol wasn't carved into the headstone long after the fact. It may even be that their life exploits inspired Beedle the Bard. It still proves nothing".

"You're _determined_ not to believe. Maybe Xeno and Ron were right about you".

"Ehhhh... What can I say? Extraordinary claims demand extraordinary evidence... Harry, take a look at this", Hermione called out softly.

"Is it...", He asked.

"No, but look"

The marker bore two names: Ariana Dumbledore and Kendra Dumbledore: Albus' younger sister, and mother. There was also something else written there: "Were your treasure is, there your heart will be also".

So Rita Skeeter wasn't completely full of it: she'd gotten it right that the Dumbledore's _had_ lived in Godric's Hollow. Harry wondered why it was that the Professor had never mentioned this? Harry and his beloved professor had the same roots right here in this town. Wasn't that worth a mention, if only an off-hand comment? Harry imagined himself and Dumbledore visiting this cemetery, how this would have deepened the bond between them, of how much it would have meant to Harry. He wondered about the quotation. Surely, as the eldest family member, Albus had chosen these words. He couldn't imagine why.

This brought up another disturbing aspect of Dumbledore's life he would never have suspected: it also meant that Skeeter's claims that the young Albus had been close friends with the dark wizard, Gellert Grendelwald, just gained a helluvalot more credibility. Dumbledore had flirted, and quite closely, with the Dark Arts, and was a willing participant in Grendelwald's schemes of subjugating the muggle world. Even more disturbing was the thought that Albus was partially responsible for the death of his own sister: Ariana. This would explain all too clearly why the Professor made no mention of his Godric's Hollow connection in all those years since that first time Harry had set foot on the grounds of Hogwart's. Harry couldn't help but wonder what else the old Headmaster he trusted like a father had hidden from him?

"Are you sure he never mentioned...", Hermione started.

"No. He never did". Hermione knew he didn't want to talk about it.

He found his parents' graves two rows back. White marble, like the mausoleum that now stood by the Black Lake. There was another quotation: "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death".

Harry repeated it out loud. "Isn't that a Death Eater idea?", he asked. "What the _fuck_ is that doing here?!"

"It's actually a paraphrase of a Biblical verse", she told him. "It means destroying death in the resurrection, the afterlife".

That wasn't much better: the hollow words of an empty promise. His parents weren't here. They were six feet under, what was left of them, completely unaware their living son stood just feet away. Beyond caring whether or not he was nearby, whether or not he lived or died. It was a mockery, not a comfort. He felt his eyes growing misty. He had been cheated of mourning due to his age.

"I should'a brought something...", Harry started.

Hermione knew what he meant, as she conjured two wreaths of pink roses for Harry to lay on the graves. "We'd best be going", he said. They came back the same way, and were just passing the marker of the grave of the unknown Abbott.

"Harry, stop", Hermione commanded.

"What's wrong?", he asked.

"I thought I heard something. We're being watched".

"Are you sure?", he couldn't imagine who'd be out and about.

"I'm sure of it. I can sense it".

"We look like muggles..."

"Muggles who don't live here, were just visiting your parents' graves to lay a wreath of flowers. Everything about that is bound to look peculiar as hell".

Harry looked around. No bursts of green or red light coming out of the shadows. Nothing to suggest a figure hiding behind the bare branches of leafless shrubs and hedges.

"If it was Death Eaters, they'd've attacked by now".

The lowest branches of a bush wiggled with a rustling. "Just a cat, or maybe a startled bird", Harry explained.

Hermione wasn't totally convinced, so Harry suggested the Invisibility Cloak, once they'd left the cemetery gate. They made their way back to the square, relieved to see no signs of activity that looked out of place. The pub was filling up as locals making a night of it were arriving. The church service had ended, and the last of the congregation was just now leaving.

"This way", Hermione suggested leaving the square opposite to the way they'd entered. They could make out the point where the rows of cottages ended, and open country began. Once clear of the light of the square: "How will we find Bathilda's?"

Harry didn't answer.

"What do you think?", still no answer. She pulled at his arm: "Harry..."

"Look. Look at it Hermione", he finally said.

"At what... Oh".

The Fidelius Charm must've broken when the Potters died. The hedge had gone wild after sixteen years of neglect. The once neat yard had returned to a state of nature: grass untrimmed, overgrown with weeds and small trees that had taken root. Most of the cottage was still standing, though now covered in dark ivy and creepers. The right side of the second floor had been blown out as though a bomb had exploded inside: the result of the backfiring of the Killing Curse meant for a one year old Harry. It was up there that Hagrid must have pulled the lone survivor out of the wreckage - the Boy Who Lived. They stood just outside the wrought iron gate, long gone rusty.

"I wonder why no one ever rebuilt it?", Hermione asked.

"Who knows? Foreclosure? Doubts as to ownership? Maybe they couldn't repair the damage since dark magic caused it?"

Harry reached out and took hold of the gate, not to try to enter either the grounds or the cottage, but simply to hold some part of the house: a piece of his own personal history. Perhaps to have a connection with a past he would never recall.

"You're not thinking of going in? Oh look!", she pointed.

From the ground, a pedestal sign rose. It was mounted on a post looking like a miniature Greek temple column. It must've been triggered by Harry's touch. It was made of some dark metal, probably anodized bronze, and was in the form of an ellipse. The gold lettering stood out clearly, even in the rising moonlight.

_On this spot on the night of 31 October, 1994, Lily and James Potter gave their lives to preserve that of their only child. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard known to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, unseen by muggle eyes, has been left as it was on that night as a monument to the Potters, and as a reminder of the violence that tore a family apart._

Graffiti covered the margins all around the golden letters in Everlast Ink:

"Good luck Harry where ever you are"

"Harry, if you should happen to be reading this know we're all behind you!"

"Long live Harry Potter!"

"They shouldn't deface the sign", Hermione complained, indignant.

"It's brilliant! I'm glad they did. I..."

"Who's out there?", a voice called. Harry and Hermione froze. As they watched, a figure appeared at the front door. It looked like some old woman, hunched over, a shawl or cloak over her shoulders and head, with an odd gait. The figure shambled closer. "Who's out there? Show yourself!"

"How cheeky! Like that old bitch thinks she owns my father's house! How _dare_ she...", Harry started angrily.

As the figure drew closer, details began to emerge under the brightening moon.

"Harry..." Hermione interrupted, as she pulled at his arm. "That's not a... I think it's a digimon!"

_Digital World: Top Layer_

The guard was dwarfed by the support pillars. He was in the form of an anthropomorphic rabbit who looked to be at least twenty feet tall. His anthro body was grossly disproportionate: maybe two thirds of his total height was long legs. Though he stood at attention, the tips of his fingers nearly reached his ankles. His body covered in gray fur, except for his face: light yellow that bisected his head. Unlike any rabbit, he had three small horns between his red eyes and lapine ears, the tips of which were dark pink. He had yellow markings on the bare arms.

He was wearing some sort of uniform: white body armour with gold trim and a golden crest worm over a red body suit. The long trousers, baggy at the thighs, were lavender, and covered the feet as one piece. Blue scarf, loosely knotted at the throat.

"Excuse me", Remus called out. The guard showed no sign that he'd seen or heard. "We bring news of the Material World that is of vital concern for your Sovereign". Still no indication that he'd heard.

"It would be more convenient if we at least knew your name?", Impmon asked.

"I am Antiramon; I guard the Nondiamon Gate", finally Antiramon at least deigned to look at them.

"What an officious prick", Jadin thought to himself.

"Transit permit and letter of introduction", Antiramon requested.

"That's the thing", Impmon explained, "we don't have one..."

"Then leave this place at once".

"Before you send us away, you should know the Ancient Ones brought us".

An eye widened, the first reaction they'd gotten from Antiramon: "Wait here. Do not attempt to cross the bridge".

Antiramon went across, towards the ellipsoid. Minutes passed. Finally, they saw Antiramon crossing the bridge. Hopefully, with good news. As he stepped aside: "You may pass"

"I don't know about this, Remus...", Tonks said as she was eyeing the bridge. "Doesn't look too safe, maybe..."

"Just don't look down, dear..."

"I've told you before: I'm not afraid of heights, just that sudden stop".

The stepping stones seemed solid enough, despite the lack of support. The ellipsoid had a tunnel piercing it. On the other side, they could see a wide lake that supplied the cascading water.

"That building, off in the distance", Impmon announced, "that's Suszakumon: Lord Zhuqiaomon's palace".

If this palace had existed in the Material World it would easily have been one of the ten tallest buildings. It looked to be constructed of rose granite. Jadin and Remus exchanged a look behind Impmon's back. They knew they were thinking the same thing: this whole palace complex looked very pretentious, and that did not bode well.

They came to another bridge over the lake. This bridge had no suspension or other structure, just more stepping stones suspended in mid air..

"I guess we walk?", Tonks asked. It was bad enough crossing over the canyon. This bridge looked miles long.

"I don't think so", Jadin said, as they stepped onto the stones. He'd noticed the rings surrounding the path of stepping stones spaced at even intervals. "It looks like..."

Something appearing as insubstantial as a soap bubble suddenly surrounded them, and began to accelerate: "...a coil gun", he finished that thought. The "bubble" was moving along at a good clip.

"Mag-lev?", Remus asked. "Too bad Arthur's not here, he would be fascinated".

"Would seem so, or something quite like it".

"There are certain protocols", Impmon explained. "I figured there would be time to brief you before we left, but this was so unexpected. So just do as I do, follow my lead", he told them. "I also don't know how much time Lord Zhuqiaomon will allow us, so get to the point as soon as you can. Don't let him intimidate you, and don't show any fear of his appearance".

They could see that the lake was wide, but probably not too deep, as more rocky spires showed above its surface. The "bubble" was slowing. It stopped and disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. They were standing on a pad made up of the same sort of red granite as the palace itself, each tile an irregular hexagon that still fit together. Suszakumon towered above them, rising tier upon tier, looking like a thin lotus flower. They had to lean way back to see the top spire.

They stood before two massive doors, each as tall as a three story building, decorated with an intricate pattern. These shook the ground as they slowly rolled back on their track. These opened to reveal a dark hallway. The floor of rectangular tiles, the ceiling towering even higher than the doors. Nothing inside save for the vaulted ceiling and support columns rising along the walls. Their bases in the shape of feet standing on their toes. The hall could easily have dry docked an aircraft carrier. It reminded Remus very much of the approach to the Department of Mysteries. The opposite end of this hallway ended at a pair of curved doors, these being the same size as the outer doors, but with a different sort of intricate pattern.

"My Lord, we beseech thee to hear our petition", Impmon announced.

_Godric's Hollow_

No witch had three fingers and toes, each ending in sharp, curved scarlet claws up to four inches in length. What he'd taken for a cloak or shawl was a contrast between white fur and dark. The folded wings gave the appearance of a back hunched with old age. It stood just behind the fence.

"Show yourselves", it demanded again. "I can sense your data". The nostrils at the end of the blunt snout pulsated briefly. "I can also smell you".

Harry took off the Cloak: "What are you doing on my property?!", he challenged.

"Looked like a good place to live. No one's using it", the creature explained. "_Your_ property?", he asked, incredulously.

"Can't you read the sign?!", Harry spoke sharply.

He looked to where Harry was pointing: "This is a memorial to my parents and you are desecrating it!"

"I never saw that sign until now".

"Harry", Hermione said, "I'm sure he doesn't know what you're talking about". Hermione turned to the unfamiliar digimon: "Do you have a name?"

"Dorugamon. I take it your companion is Harry Potter - the one mentioned on the sign? What's your name?", he asked.

"Hermione Granger, and you're right: this is Harry".

"Do you have a partner?", Harry asked.

"Partner? You know about partner?"

"Yes, we do. You're not the first digimon we've met".

"You are not the one I seek?"

"I don't think so".

You don't have a partner?", Hermione replied.

"I came to seek a partner..."

Someone was approaching, Dorugamon disappeared among the over growth; Harry and Hermione ducked under the Cloak. A figure was hobbling up the lane, back lit by the street lights in the square. Another dorugamon? No, it was definitely an old woman this time. Her stoop, the slowness with which she moved, and the shuffling gait indicated extreme old age. Harry and Hermione watched in silence as she drew closer. Harry expected her to turn off the road, towards one of the other cottages, but suspected she would not. She came to within a few yards, and just stood there. There was almost no chance it was one of the muggle residents. No question but that she saw the wrecked cottage.

Still, it was decidedly odd behaviour: out at this time just to see an old wrecked house. By all the rules of magic, she couldn't see Harry and Hermione. Still, Harry sensed that she knew they were there, and that she knew who they were. How, he didn't know, but remembered Lupin's warning: he would see forms of magic he had never seen before. Was there some way she could see past the Cloak? If so, how many others could do likewise? It was not a comforting thought. As if on cue, she raised a gloved hand and beckoned.

"How does she know?", Hermione whispered. "Can she see us?"

"Dunnow".

She repeated the beckoning motion, this time, more insistently. Harry's suspicions as to her identity grew stronger. Was it possible that she'd been waiting for this moment? Could Dumbledore had alerted her to the possible arrival of Harry. Could she have been waiting, patiently, ever since receiving word of Dumbledore's death?

Harry made his decision: "Are you Bathilda?", he called out, making Hermione jump. He removed the Cloak.

She nodded and beckoned again. They followed, back the same way they'd come. She hobbled to another cottage a few houses further down the street, turned in at a gate leading to a front yard almost as overgrown and ill maintained as the one they just left. She fumbled for a key at the front door, unlocked it, and stepped aside to let them in. The interior smelled really bad: of must and dust, mildew and old age.

Now that she stood beside him, he really appreciated how small she was. Bent over with age, she barely came up to his chest. she closed the door behind her, the back of her hand lined with blue veins and brown spots. She turned and faced him, her face dotted with broken veins and liver spots. As she peered into his face, he could see her eyes were thick with cataracts. Probably made no difference, his Polyjuice disguise.

The odor of stale food, dust, old age intensified as she unwound the moth-eaten shawl. The hair very thin and white.

"Bathilda?", Harry asked again.

She nodded again, and Harry became aware that the locket he wore under his shirt was quivering. Did the thing inside know that the instrument of its destruction was close at hand? He hoped so. Bathilda roughly shoved Hermione aside as she headed towards what looked to be a drawing room.

"I have a bad feeling about this", Hermione said.

"Look at her: it's not like we can't overpower her if she pulls anything..."

"I dunnow", Hermione disagreed.

"Come!", Bathilda called from the other room. She was tottering around, lighting candles. However, she lit them muggle-style with wooden strike anywhere matches. It was still very dark, and the filthiest room Harry had ever been in. Dust and debris crunched beneath their feet. Harry smelled something really nasty beneath the dank, mildew, and oldness, like meat that had gone very rotten. He wondered how she could live like this, didn't she have anyone who would take care of her? What a sad end to a distinguished career as a magical historian and scholar.

"Here, let me do that for you", Harry offered, as her lace cuffs came dangerously close to catching fire. He wondered why she wasn't using magic to light the candles. That would have been a lot safer, but he'd heard the rumours that the old gal wasn't quite all there.

"Why did you ask us to come with you? Was there something you wanted to tell us?", Hermione asked. She gave no sign she'd heard Hermione. Instead, she jerked her head, back towards the hall.

"You want us to leave?", Harry asked.

She pointed to Harry, then herself, then towards the ceiling. Whatever she wanted, it involved Harry and something upstairs.

"Then let's go", Hermione said, but Bathilda shook her head, and pointed to Harry, and herself. Hermione wasn't invited.

"Harry... I don't know about this".

"I'm sure it'll be OK. Perhaps Dumbledore instructed her to give it to me and me alone".

"That's assuming she even knows who you are", Hermione was beginning to suspect that she was so deep into senility that she had no idea what she was doing.

"I think she does", Harry said.

"OK, but come back soon", Hermione replied, still very uneasy about this whole situation.

Harry followed her up a flight of very narrow, very steep steps. He worried that she just might fall backwards into him. Slowly and wheezing slightly, Bathilda reached the upper landing, turned right, and led the way into a bedroom with a low ceiling. It was dark, and became even darker as the door was closed. The only source of light being a grimy window along side hung filthy, moth eaten curtains.

"Lumos", Harry had his wand out. In those brief seconds of darkness, Bathilda had moved very close, very fast, without a sound. He didn't think she could move that fast.

"Are you Potter?", she whispered.

"Yes, I thought you knew that already. Do you have something for me?", he asked. She said nothing, and seemed to be distracted by his lit wand. "Do you have something for me?", he asked again.

She said nothing, just closed her eyes. Harry felt the scar prickle, the horcrux became more active, and the filthy room seemed to dissolve. He felt a leap of great joy, and spoke in a high, clear tone: "Hold him".

Harry swayed where he stood. He wasn't sure as to what had just happened.

"Do you have anything for me or not?", he asked more insistently. This time louder to make sure he'd been heard.

"Over here", she said, pointing to a corner of the room. He raised his wand, seeing nothing but a cluttered old dressing table. She didn't lead, so he edged himself between Bathilda and an unmade bed. This time, he kept an eye on the old lady. Hermione was right, something didn't quite add up. Something didn't feel right, and Harry made sure to keep an eye on Bathilda.

"What is it?". The table was piled high with dirty clothes. Nothing else of any possible interest was visible either on or around the table.

"There", she pointed to the shapeless mass.

He looked away just for an instant, hoping to catch a glimpse of a glint of steel, or a red reflection from a ruby studded handle. He noticed it but barely. Bathilda moved strangely, and he turned and froze in horror. The old body was "dissolving", and the great serpent was emerging from where her neck should have been.

The snake struck quickly, biting him on the forearm of his wand hand, sending the wand flying. The light swung dizzily around the room before flickering out. He took a hit to the midsection that knocked the wind out of him as he fell backwards into the pile of filthy laundry. He rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding a blow from the snake's tail that shattered the glass top of the dressing table. Glass fragments rained down on him. He heard Hermione call: "Harry? What's going on up there?"

He couldn't answer, as he didn't have the breathe just yet. A heavy, smooth, cool mass, powerfully muscled, slid over him, pinning him to the floor.

"No!", he gasped.

"Yes", whispered a reply. "Hold you... hold you... hold you", Nagini spoke in Parseltongue: the language of snakes and serpents. He realized that was why this "Bathilda" was not being talkative: it was all Parseltongue, and Hermione would have recognized she was not speaking English. Why she didn't use magic to light the candles. He also realized why the house wreaked of meat gone bad: the decaying remains of the real Bathilda Bagshot. Maybe Nagini or Voldemort had killed her, or had discovered that she'd died in her sleep. Regardless, neither of them told anyone, seen that she'd gotten a proper burial, and took advantage by replacing her with the impostor to await the arrival of Harry Potter.

The snake coiled itself around him, forcing the air from his lungs. He felt he was going to pass out. His mind went all white, all thought obliterated, his own breath drowned, going... going... He was flying, without broom or thestral, his heart filled with triumph.

He was abruptly conscious, still lying on that filthy floor. Nagini had released him for some reason. He felt around, and felt something like a pencil. His wand. The snake was illuminated from light coming up from the landing. The bedroom door had been closed, but was now open. She seemed distracted, confused as to where to strike...

"POWER METAL!"

An instant later, the wall exploded inwards with a tremendous crash that rocked the house to its foundation. Hermione lost her balance and nearly fell down the narrow stairs. Fragments of wood and plaster, bits and pieces of furniture sailed with lethal speed over his head. Dust and debris settled over him. The evening air poured into the room, banishing the odor of decay and age.

Harry looked to where he'd last seen Nagini. The serpent was nowhere in sight. The wall was blasted almost completely away, save for broken planks that jutted outward at odd angles. Whatever it had been, it smashed into the next room, and out into the night. Above, stars shown where part of the roof had torn away. Harry looked to the opposite side of the room. Through a roughly circular hole in the wall, he saw Dorugamon hovering outside. The beat of his wings drowning out any other night sounds. Dorugamon must have seen through the filthy bedroom window, fired something...

Harry had no time to think further about it, or to even say a word of thanks. The floor truss, weakened by decades of neglect, dry rot, and termites groaned. The floor gave way with a sickening crunch, dropped into the sitting room. Harry rolled down the resulting incline, head over heels, tumbling with dirty clothes, bits and pieces of smashed furniture, wood and plaster fragments. The bed followed, wedging itself into the opening. He stopped at Hermione's feet.

He was up instantly: "He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!"

They ran out the front door, coated in dust, as a cloud of dust poured out. Dorugamon landed beside them. "We have to go now!"

Hermione called out: "He goes too. If he knows..."

There was no time for argument: Nagini was slithering through the grass, coming right at them, hissing in anger and fright. She must've been blasted out into the yard. Hermione grabbed one of Dorugamon's red claws as she grasped Harry's hand. The digimon had no time to ask what the strange girl was talking about. Harry's scar burst open, and he was Voldemort. He'd made the mistake of coming to the ruined bedroom where he expected to find Nagini. He arrived as the roof collapsed, trapping him, delaying him. He managed to escape, to run to the front door just in time to see three figures disappear with a flash and a bang. He screamed with rage: cheated by fate of what he thought would be an easy victory. Once again.

He walked through the square, watching these muggles with utter contempt. They were making a mockery of the Sabbat: Samhain. They played at being that in which they did not really believe, and of which they were most likely ignorant. Homes and stores were decorated with all the superficial trappings and images of a world they would never understand.

A young child, dressed up as a pumpkin, crossed his path: "Nice costume, Mister", the boy complimented.

He just glared at the muggle boy, who, now not so sure as he looked behind the hooded cloak. He saw fear fill the child's eyes, the smile leave his painted face. He turned and ran for his mother. He felt the handle of his wand. Just a silent flick, and he would never reach his mother. Now was not the time for that: he had more pressing matters, and he had the cover of the muggle dress-up day. There was no anger in his heart, no animosity. This was just taking care of business.

He went down a lane leading out of the square. Night was falling. He stopped beside a hedge, out of sight. He saw that the Fidelius Charm had broken. Inside, through a window, he watched a young man playing with his infant son. The man was producing puffs of brightly coloured smoke from the tip of his wand as the infant boy laughed and reached out to grab the smoke. Did he know? It didn't look like it. A young woman came into view. She took the young boy, and walked out of view.

The gate creaked but slightly as he pushed it open, and stepped through. Inside, James Potter didn't hear or notice, as he laid his wand down on the sofa. How foolish! How stupid! This blind trust in friends, the belief that weapons could be set aside without consequence. He burst through the door, James coming to see what was going on, wandless.

"Lily! Run!", James called out. "I'll hold him off!", he promised.

Voldemort hesitated, laughing. What could he possibly do? He'd forgotten his wand. "Avada Kadavra!", he cast the curse. The green light flashed briefly, and James Potter dropped. He fell just beside the stairs leading to the second story.

He took his time. climbing the stairs. Vaguely amused, he listened to the woman's futile attempts to barricade the bedroom door. This wouldn't slow down even a muggle home invader. That she was doing this proved that she, too, had neglected to keep her wand handy. This was going to be easier than he'd expected: getting rid of this final, and most improbable, obstacle. He took his time, as there was no rush, and caution to see if, perhaps, there wasn't someone else in the cottage.

The door burst inwards, the furniture and boxes piled up against it flew into the room.

"Please! Not Harry!", Lily Potter pleaded, as she placed the boy in a crib behind her. She held arms wide, as if that would do any good. The little boy looked on, not understanding.

"Step aside, you foolish girl", he said.

"No! Not Harry! Not Harry! Not Harry!"

"This is your last chance", Voldemort informed her.

"No! Have mercy! He's just a baby!"

"Avada Kadavra!", Lily dropped just as easily as her husband. The boy looked on: perhaps he figured this was just mommy and daddy making pretty lights? He approached the boy, as he wanted to look into his eyes when he did it. The boy began to cry. Perhaps, now, he was beginning to realize? He hated that: just like the constant caterwauling of the little ones at the orphanage.

"Avada Kadavra!", the green light flashed once again. However, this time, something was wrong. The green light seemed to have rebounded, spreading, filling the room. Voldemort felt like his insides were on fire. The walls giving way. Then... nothing. Just a former shadow of his consciousness...

"_N__OOOO__!_" Harry awoke. He was soaked in sweat, even though it was not hot inside the tent.

"Harry, it's OK. You're OK", it was Hermione. Harry was laying on the lower bunk. He could tell that it was daybreak by the quality of the cold, the light shining through the canvas ceiling above him..

"More bad dreams?", she asked.

"Was I out?", he asked.

"Not exactly", she explained. "You were quite ill. Like you were delirious, thrashing about, saying things...

He wondered if he'd screamed and cursed like Voldemort, or cried like that baby. "Like what?"

"That's not important", he noticed that Hermione had obviously not gotten any sleep. That she was holding a sponge and had obviously been wiping his face all night.

"I was there, Hermione. I saw the whole thing, that night, when he killed my parents... Shouldn't have come to Godric's Hollow... My fault, all my fault".

"That's not true. I wanted to go too. Seemed likely that Dumbledore just might have left the sword or a clue..."

Dorugamon was curled up on the floor, and began to awake. Harry sat up like a shot: "_What the..._"

Then he remembered: a digimon living in the ruins of his parents' house. A figure hovering outside Bathilda's second story. He hadn't the opportunity to get a good look at him until now.

"You were injured, but I cleaned the snake bite and put some dittany on it. That horcrux you were wearing, it left a burn mark, and I couldn't get it off without a Severing Charm", Hermione explained.

He looked: there was an angry scarlet oval on his chest where the locket had rested, and puncture marks on his right forearm that looked to be healing properly, so not cursed wounds that never completely heal.

"Where did you put it?", he asked.

"It's in my bag. I think it should stay there. It's too dangerous to wear the damn thing".

Dorugamon stood up. Harry could now see that the unfamiliar figure he'd seen at his parents' house had a white furry face. Blue head beginning just behind the wide mouth, and in front of orange, mammalian eyes. Long swept back, cat-like ears, Two ruffs of blue fur at the white neck. Red triangle on the forehead. The underside and stockings white, the wings blue on top, white underneath. Long blue tail, thick at the base, narrowing to a point at the white tip. The hind legs disproportionately long and heavily muscled, accounting for the unusual bipedal gait. It was easy to see how under poor light Dorugamon could be mistaken for an old woman wearing a shawl.

"You aren't gonna yell at me again?", he asked, eying Harry.

"No... You were there at Bathilda's. How did you know?"

"That old lady: she stood in the middle of the street for 43 nights, waving at that house. Sometimes for hours, several times a night. I didn't understand it... crazy behaviour. Never said a word the whole time. Like she was waiting for someone. Then you two came along, and seemed to know what she meant, like you knew her, but I never trusted her, so I followed you. I saw her sic her snake on you, and waited until I had a clear shot".

"So it was you who wrecked the house?", Hermione asked.

"Yes, I saw what she did".

"I'm glad you were there. You saved us, and have our thanks".

"She faked us out. She couldn't see past...", Hermione turned to Harry.

"Your force field: most impressive. I didn't know you had the technology to bend light and not leave even the slightest visual artifact. I didn't know you had perfected teleportation as well".

"It's a secret, not widely known", Hermione said.

"That house, it has a force field too? I watched people walk by every day like they couldn't see it, or me".

"Only those who were meant to see it, see it". Harry added: "And digimon, Impmon said you can see things you aren't supposed to see. That's why you could see the cottage, but most others could not".

"An impmon is here?"

"Impmon and his partner are good friends of ours", Hermione explained.

"So that's how you knew. I wondered about that... What's going on? Why did you take me from Godric's Hollow? Without asking if I wanted to go, I might add".

"It's a long story...", Hermione began.


	25. The Sword and the Audience

**25) The Sword and the Audience**

The weather was turning foul in earnest. The first snowfall, and it was heavy, wet flakes accompanied by high winds that cut through multiple layers of even the warmest clothing. Hermione and Harry were jealous of Dorugamon's fur coat, as the cold didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. A good time to be moving on, as the three disapparated.

"Where are we?", Harry asked. It was still nastily cold, the ground frozen, but, so far, the snow had not yet penetrated through the trees; they were protected from the bitter winds.

"Forest of Dean", Hermione explained. "We, my Mum, Dad, and I, came here once on holiday and camped. Of course, that was during summer vacation".

"Maybe not such a good idea", Dorugamon said. "If they know your history, they might suspect you'd come here".

"It wasn't like we came here every year. It was just the one time, and we haven't gone camping since. I don't think they'll know. It's dangerous no matter where we stay", Hermione explained as she began to cast the charms to form a security perimeter.

They explained their situation to Dorugamon, that he was in danger as Voldemort had seen him, knew he had interfered, and that Godic's Hollow was no longer safe for him. He agreed to accept their protection; despite that neither Harry nor Hermione had a digivice and so couldn't digivolve him. They agreed that, with Ron no longer there, they could use the extra help. Being that Dorugamon was a flighted digimon, he could patrol the skies, scout ahead for possible threats.

They spent most of the rest of the day in the warmth of the tent, courtesy of the blue fire that Hermione was adept at producing, and which had an extra useful property: it could be stored in a bottle, burning with neither oxygen nor fuel. Harry felt as though he'd just gotten over a serious illness, the illusion furthered by Hermione's solicitous treatment. That afternoon, snowflakes fine enough to filter through the branches began to give the ground around them a dusting of powdery snow.

Harry slept poorly the next two nights. The escape from Godric's Hollow had been close. Much too close for comfort, and Voldemort seemed to be closer than ever, and more threatening than before. It didn't help that Harry thought he heard things, saw things: someone watching close. He seemed to hear someone moving about, just outside his ability to see past the darkness. He tried telling himself that it was just imagination, nocturnal animals looking for food, scratching in the frozen dirt for left over seeds and nuts. Tricks of the light played by shadows cast from moonlight. Still, he couldn't quite convince himself.

"I'll be alright", Harry told Hermione. "You grab some shut-eye", he said as he came to relieve her. That's how tonight's rotation worked: first Hermione, then Harry, and then Dorugamon. Right now, the digimon was curled up on the floor.

"I kept thinking I could hear someone out there", she said, offhand. "I thought I saw someone once or twice...", she saw the look as she unwittingly confirmed Harry's worst suspicions. "I'm sure it was just my imagination", she tried reassuring in vain. "Snow in the dark, it can play tricks with the eyes".

"I suppose", he replied unconvinced, as he dragged a cushion to the doorway of the tent to settle in for the watch. The forest was certain to be filled with animals and night sounds. He wished that the innocent wood land critters could be quiet so their sounds wouldn't mask those that were coming from sources not so innocent. Yet their security enchantments had worked flawlessly so far. They also had Dorugamon with his sensitive digimon hearing and sensitive digimon nose and the devastating Power Metal attack. Still every movement, every sound, seemed magnified in the darkness of the forest.

Something else weighted on his mind: the revelation that Dumbledore came from Godric's Hollow where, in his youth, he had flirted with the darkest of Dark Arts. What made Grindelwald so different from Voldemort? Didn't they both want the same thing: the total subjugation and enslavement of the muggle population? Harry remembered the statue that replaced Fudge's "Fountain of Magical Brethren": "Magic is Might". If Fudge's gift to the ministry was offensive, it was only because it was unrealistic. Voldemort's depicted a male and female magician seated on a throne borne up by hordes of muggles, all looking stupid and animalistic, crushed under the weight of their burden while the magi on the throne looked on without the slightest bit of concern.

Albus Dumbledore was the _exact _equivalent of a Death Eater! Even worse, he was poised to become Grindelwald's second-in-command. He'd even probably had a hand in the death of his own younger sister. All of Dumbledore's protestations on the behalf of the muggle-born, half-bloods, and magical beings began to ring hollow and hypocritical.

He recalled how, just after Sirius was killed, Dumbledore made excuses as to why he hadn't informed Harry about the true nature of his psychic connection to the Dark Lord. At first, it was because the eleven year old was too young to carry such a heavy burden. Then, as Harry grew older, it hadn't come up. His excuse that sometimes older doesn't mean wiser sounded more and more like bullshit. Had Dumbledore bought into Grindelwald's philosophy: "For the Greater Good"? Did he still believe that, in other words, "The end justifies the means"? Could Harry, himself, be but Dumbledore's "means", and for what "end"? Why hadn't Dumbledore ever done a damn thing about that psychic connection? _Why_ didn't he at least try to have that bit of Voldemort trapped inside him removed? He had to have known, even when he was but a babe in Hagrid's arms, he _had_ to have known.

Rita Skeeter, of all people, should prove to be the cause of Harry's first doubts about the man he looked up to, not as just a great wizard, not as just a caring Headmaster, a mentor, but even a surrogate father second only to James if he'd lived, was the definition of irony. Yet, there was no denial: Skeeter's book had proved itself a good deal more factual than he expected. He even saw the advance copy, with the note of appreciation, addressed to Ms. Bagshot, whom she interviewed. It was still prominently displayed in Bathilda's sitting room when Harry helped light the candles.

There was the matter of the Deathly Hallows. Hermione didn't believe in them, but Harry had to wonder. Why else would he leave that symbol in the book which described them? Skeeter's book claimed that Grindelwald was as obsessed with the Deathly Hallows as Xenophilius Lovegood, and countless others before and since. It was why Grindelwald took that symbol as his own, and very early on, why he'd carved it into the walls of Durmstrang when he was a student there. What was the connection between Dumbledore and the Deathly Hallows? Had he ever given up his desire to see them reunited? How did that figure in with Voldemort? Was Dumbledore trying to tell them that Voldemort might be seeking the Hallows, as had Grindelwald? Yet, how could he know? Did he have an idea that Skeeter would write about him? Just trust that Harry would travel to Godric's Hollow? Just happen to see the marker on the grave of Ignotus Peverell? It all seemed all too fantastic, all too much reliance on serendipity, and that wasn't ever Dumbledore's style.

_The Digital World: Suszakumon_

They waited. Finally, the ground shook as the doors rolled back. This was obviously Zhuqiaomon's audience chamber. It was oval, with a vaulted ceiling. Vacant save for a large gas jet protruding from the floor in the very center of the chamber. A fire roared from it, the flames nearly reaching the ceiling. They could feel the radiated heat from this inferno that improbably burned without consuming the oxygen in a closed room, without even a trace of smoke or noxious fumes, not even a hint of soot on the high ceiling, not even directly above the flames.

A brass railing surrounded the fire, each support leg terminating in digitigrade feet. As they looked on, the fire seemed to be taking a definite shape. Wings, then a head, formed. Even before the transformation was complete:

"I am Zhuqiaomon. I protect the Digimons' world, as one of the Holy Beasts", Zhuqiaomon acted as his own herald.

The last of the flames disappeared, replaced by the figure of an enormous phoenix with two pairs of wings, two pairs of piercing red eyes, Red spheres surrounded his neck and the tip of a decidedly reptilian tail: his multiple digicores. The jaws long, thin, and studded with sharp teeth. Zhuqiaomon looked like an amalgamation of bird and pterosaur. His body surrounded with tenuous, red flames that seemed to emanate from his very substance.

"Who is it that approaches?"

Impmon dropped to one knee, and bowed his head. Jadin, Remus and Tonks did likewise.

"My Lord, it is I, Impmon, I have brought..."

"Are the realms of the Holy Beasts a place for Outworlders? _How dare you!_"

"My partner, Jadin Weston, and his friends, Remus Lupin and his wife, Nymphadora Lupin, bring news of the Material World..."

"SILENCE! Of what possible concern are the affairs of the Material World to us?"

"Your Majesty, if I may", Remus began. "One of our kind, one calling himself Lord Voldemort, has taken over our world. He is exceedingly greedy for power, and he will not be satisfied with just the Material World..."

"Remuslupin and Nymphadoralupin, you are the Outworlders who defeated Kuwagamon?"

"Yes, your Majesty. We are magi. You may not be aware, but we do exist. If you don't know, it's because most of us avoid the use of technology, and you wouldn't have had any contact..."

"I still fail to see how this problem of yours should concern me".

"Your Majesty, didn't you just tell us you protect the digimons' world?", Lupin asked. "I can't guarantee Voldemort will ever find out about your world. However, Lord Voldemort has made himself immortal. He murdered at least six people to accomplish this. He has murdered countless others. He may not find out about the Digital World next year, or next decade, or maybe not for 500 years. If - when - he does, he will have grown that much more powerful, and he _will_ seek the subjugation of your world. Of that I am in no doubt whatsoever".

"I am what's called among our people an 'auror'", Tonks explained. "We aurors protect the Wizarding World. We fought Lord Voldemort once before, sixteen years ago. There was life lost, both among the magical community, and the non-magical humans. Even though his physical body was destroyed, he did not die. His most dedicated followers never stopped searching for their Lord, until they found the means to bring him back in physical form, back into his former level of power, which he has increased in the time since his return.

"I apologize for our negligence. We allowed Voldemort to grow in power because we didn't want to accept that he had returned. We didn't want to believe it. It's a hard thing for those who still bear painful memories of friends and family lost during his last rampage of conquest to accept that it is beginning all over again. He failed once before, but he is now ready to conquer again. This time, he knows about digimon, and it's just a matter of time until he discovers your world.

"Through fear, uncertainty, doubt, and murder he has taken over the Ministry of Magic: our government. His followers have been given free reign to murder innocent, non-magical humans as their reward. He holds humans in utter contempt, and would hold non-human digimon in even greater contempt. He will seek your destruction. Don't allow this to happen. You have already seen: our magic works here as it does in our world. We used it here to protect innocent life; Voldemort will use it to destroy innocent life. Life holds little value for Lord Voldemort".

"What makes you think that we could not keep him out of our world?"

"Your Majesty, we have a saying back home: better to fight the evil when your victory is assured and cheap than wait until you have no choice but to fight though you know victory is impossible because the alternative is even more horrible", Jadin explained. "Isn't it better to fight Voldemort in the Material World now, than fight him in the Digital World later?

"The Material World is under the threat of a Cherubimon, a Lucemon; we need your help. We came in humility and with respect to ask if you will help us, and by helping us, help yourselves".

_Forest of Dean_

Several times, he jerked awake, having dozed off. He hoped no one noticed he'd been falling asleep on watch. Maybe he should have accepted Hermione's offer of extra shut-eye? The night had thickened into a velvety blackness so thorough it was like being caught in mid-apparition. He held his hand before his face to see if he could make out his fingers. That's when it happened: a bright silvery light appeared right before him, not too far off, moving among the trees whose trunks stood out in stark relief. For whatever reason, he didn't make any attempt to alert the others to intrusion. Whatever the source, it moved without making a sound.

He jumped to his feet, Hermione's wand at the ready. He had to squint his eyes at the brightness as the thing approached. It stepped into view from the tree line beyond the clearing: a silvery doe, bright as a full moon on a clear night. She picked her way along the ground, leaving behind no footprints in the powdery snow. She was coming forward, her beautiful head held high, wide eyes with long lashes. He continued staring, not because of its unfamiliarity, but just the opposite. He felt that he'd been waiting for this very moment, but had somehow forgotten that he'd arranged this meeting. His initial impulse to call for Hermione and Dorugamon now completely gone. He felt as though she were meant for him, and him alone. They looked at each other, studying one another, for long moments, before she turned and walked away.

"No", he called out, but not loud enough to disturb the others. "Come back". She paid no attention, but continued back to the tree line, her shimmering figure now striped by the trees. He hesitated, for a moment common sense told him this could be a trap. Wouldn't this be a good way to lure him into a Death Eater ambush? Instinct countered instinct, and he became convinced this was not dark magic at work. He followed.

Unmarked snow crunched, but the doe, being nothing more substantial than light, made no sound, left no mark upon the snow. He followed deeper into the surrounding forest, against his judgment that he was going so far away as to become lost until morning at least. Yet he was convinced that, when they'd arrived at whatever destination, she would allow him to make a proper introduction. Then she and he could talk freely, no chance of being overheard, and he would have his answers.

Finally, she stopped, and Harry broke into a trot to catch up. Before he could make a sound, she vanished, leaving no trace but for the after image. Disappointed, he took out Hermione's wand: "Lumos", and the wand tip lit up. He listened, but nothing more than normal night sounds reached him. No sound of human footsteps, no bursts of green from an assassin hiding in the woods. He looked around, seeing nothing, but couldn't shake the feeling that someone was out there, watching, from beyond the circle of light from the wand. He held the wand higher, and looked around. Still no sign of a hidden watcher. He wondered what was the point? Why had he been brought all the way out here?

That's when he noticed it: a glint from the pond besides which he stood. He approached carefully. It was a small pool that had been formed by a brook dammed by a deadfall that had caught normal detritus of the forest: fallen leaves, branches and twigs, gravel piled up by fast moving water from summer storms. Now, the surface was covered with a sheet of ice as clear as glass. This being the middle of winter, the water was likewise clear enough to see all the way to the bottom. He held the wand higher, and at first saw nothing other than his reflection and that of the glowing wand tip. Then he noticed: there was something else reflecting back the light. He moved closer, and felt his heart in his mouth. There, on the bottom, was what looked like a silver crucifix. Moving the wand but slightly brought a gleam of ruby red.

Not a crucifix, but the hilt of a sword inset with rubies: the sword of Godric Gryffindor lay at the bottom of this remote forest pool. As he looked on at the fabulous sight, he wondered how this was even possible. Nothing Dumbledore ever told him hinted at the Forest of Dean. Did he even know Hermione had once visited? Even if he did, what were the chances they'd ever come within a mile of this particular pool? If it had been there since before Dumbledore's death it would have been so overgrown with algae, so buried in water borne sediment that he'd never stand a chance of seeing it even if he knew where to look. Had some unknown magic been in effect, drawing Hermione to this specific place without her being aware of it? That seemed none too likely: Hermione was a better magician than that. No, he decided, the sword had been delivered here after their arrival precisely because they'd landed here. That, in turn, brought up disturbing possibilities: who was tracking them, and how were they being tracked? If friendlies could do this, despite all their precautions against being tracked, could hostiles do likewise?

"Accio sword", Harry tried to cast the spell, even though he knew it wouldn't work. Had it been that easy, the sword could just as easily been left for him, laying on the ground, or leaning against a tree. He dreaded the idea, but knew what he had to do. He looked again: it was as he feared - the sword was too deep to reach, maybe six feet underwater, an easy dive in any other season. Another look around to convince himself that there was nobody lurking, waiting for this moment to strike. "Diffindo", he called out to crack the ice.

Harry pulled off one sweater after another, growing colder by the second. By the time he was down to his skivvies and bare feet, his teeth were chattering uncontrollably. Delaying wouldn't make that water the least bit warmer. He took a breathe and jumped in. He almost gasped as the cold attacked him, paradoxically, like fire. He felt around with his feet as he didn't want to make more than one dive, stay in that water one second longer than necessary. He felt the blade barely beneath a foot fast going totally numb. He took another breathe and went under. His fingers closed around the hilt, and he began to life the sword. Then he felt something close around his neck. It wasn't a strand of underwater weed. The chain of Slytherin's Locket was doing its best to strangle him.

He kicked strongly, trying to break the surface, but succeeded in propelling himself into the side of the pool. His frozen fingers failed to pry the chain from his neck. Lights began popping behind his eyes. He was drowning, and there was nothing he could do about it now. How stupid to have forgotten he was still wearing the horcrux. The arms he felt closing around his chest could only be the embrace of Death...

Harry found himself face down in the snow, choking and retching, gasping in the frigid air, soaking wet and colder than he ever remembered ever feeling, hoping he'd avoided frostbite. Somewhere nearby, someone else was gasping, coughing, and staggering around. At first he thought Hermione...

"_Are you mental?!_", came an accusation. That voice... little else could have moved Harry to get up off the ground. There before him was Ron. He had the sword in one hand, and the horcrux dangling from its broken chain in the other.

"What the _fuck_?", panted Ron, the horcrux swinging on its chain. "You didn't take the damn thing off before you jumped in there?"

Harry had no answer for him as he began to pull on his clothes from the pile he'd made. The silvery doe was nothing as compared to Ron's unexpected appearance, and at just the right time. He couldn't think of it right at the moment, but half expected that it was a mirage of some sort, that Ron would disappear as soon as he lost sight of him.

"So it was you?", Harry asked.

"Well, yeah", he replied, somewhat confused. There was no one else who could have pulled Harry from the water.

"You cast the doe?", Harry asked.

"Me? No... I thought you cast it..."

"My patronus is a stag", Harry told him.

"Oh yeah, I thought it looked different. No antlers".

Finally fully dressed again, Harry turned to Ron; he could think again. He recalled. He wondered why it had taken this long.

"Snape...", Harry said.

"Come again?"

"Snape's patronus is a doe. He must've put the sword...".

From behind two oaks that grew so close that their trunks were separated by no more than an inch stepped a figure whose pallid skin seemed to glow with its own light. Greasy shoulder length black hair, a black winter traveling cloak. The last person Ron expected to meet.

"Pot-ter", he barely kept his rage under control. "_You_ weren't supposed to know! You have endangered my life, the lives of _every_ member of the Order, and who knows how many others. You are so _pathetic_ at occlumency..."

"I've been practicing. I've improved since the last time, Professor..."

Snape whipped out his wand without warning: "Legilimens!"

It was a third person point of view: Snape was looking on. He realized that this wasn't what he'd attempted to see. He tried to leave, but could not.

Around a table in a typical suburban kitchen sat a young, black haired boy. Next to him, a somewhat taller, slightly chunky boy maybe a year older. There was a man about late twenties, early thirties. They were singing.

_Happy birthday to you..._

A woman arrived with a chocolate cake with four lit candles. "Happy Fourth, Harry" was written in white icing.

_Happy birthday, dear Harrrr-rrrry. Happy birthday toooooo youuuuuu!_

Harry found himself on hands and knees. Snape was helping him to his feet.

"Redirecting to harmless memories is a useful tactic. Very good", Snape told him. "I see you _have_ been doing the work... for once. A pleasant surprise", Snape almost congratulated. "Just don't get too cocky, Pot-ter", he admonished. Harry wasn't expecting compliments, as he'd never gotten any before.

"I won't", he replied. "Just how long were you going to wait?", he asked.

"How did you recognize my patronus?"

"That night, when Umbridge summoned you to her office..."

"I shall never forget that night, as much as I'd like to. Go on Pot-ter".

"You sent word to the Order. Impmon was there, he saw it. Later, he told me..."

"Impmon! How could he, he isn't even..."

"No he isn't, but he sees patronuses. He sees a lot of things you don't think he can: thestrals, past Fidelius Charms, muggle repelling charms, curses. He senses their data..."

"What else does the little purple blabber-mouth know?"

"Everything. Professor Dumbledore sent his patronus, told him everything a few days before he died. That's why he let you and Draco go... that night". Snape realized that Potter must be telling the truth, as he never referred to it as a murder, nor did he blame him in any way. He never understood, until now, why that silver fox ordered him to take Draco and leave.

"Who else did he tell?"

"Professor McGonagall, Remus and his wife, Arthur Weasley and his wife, I think, Madam Pomfrey - I think that's it".

"And I suppose the muggle boy?"

"Yeah, he told Jadin, he's Impmon's partner and they don't keep secrets from each other, but you don't have to worry about him".

"And why not, Pot-ter?"

"Jadin, Remus, Tonks and Kreacher went to the Digital World to arrange an alliance..."

"Enough Pot-ter, I see that you still have a tendency to say too much..."

"Just how long were you going to wait, or were you just gonna let me drown?"

"I was just getting up when I saw Mr. Weasley coming to your rescue. That was a foolish thing you did Pot-ter. Forgetting little details like that can get you killed, or, perhaps, others as well".

"I'll remember that, Professor. I'll remember that".

"See that you do, Pot-ter. Good night, Mr. Weasley". Snape returned to the woods to disapparate.

"Bloody hell!", Ron finally found his voice. "What's on with him?! I thought he... C'mon, let's get you back before you freeze to death." Harry retraced his footsteps back to the camp.

"I'm sorry", Ron said. "I'm sorry I left. I know I was a... a... a real..."

"Don't worry about it. Not your fault. If we hadn't decided to wear that locket... You came back, and that's all that matters. The rest, water over the dam. I'm sure Hermione will be happy to see you and that you're OK. She worried about you. We both did".

The return trip didn't take as long as Harry had expected. It just seemed that farther away, after following Snape's patronus.

"Hermione!", Ron called out as they entered the tent. She and Dorugamon were up instantly. "Help me get Harry into some dry clothes before he freezes".

At first, Hermione's intent was to give Ron hell for deserting them, leaving them to the mercies of Nagini and Voldemort. However, that could wait.

"Bloody hell!", Ron exclaimed at the sight of his replacement.

"This is Dorugamon, we'll explain later", Hermione told him.

By the time they'd gotten Harry warmed up, most of Hermione's initial anger had subsided.

"I wanted to come back the moment I left. I walked right into a gang of Snatchers, Hermione, and I couldn't go anywhere".

"A gang of what?", Harry asked.

"Snatchers", Ron explained, "they're everywhere. They collect bounties from the Ministry for turning in unregistered muggle-borns and blood traitors. I look like I'm underage, and since I'm not in school, they thought I might have been a prospect for a truancy reward if nothing else. I told 'em I was Stan Shunpike - first name that occurred to me when they asked..."

This was the first they'd heard about what was going on in the world. Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of horror. Neither had anticipated how bad things actually had become. Neighbor turning on neighbor. Free lance police spies. The witch hunts for the muggle born.

"And they believed that?", Hermione asked, incredulous.

"They weren't exactly the sharpest tools in the shed. One was definitely part troll, based on the smell. Anyway, they had quite a row over whether to believe me or not. Really quite pathetic, but still there were five of them and only one of me, and they took my wand. While they were trying to decide whether to turn me in, I hit the one holding me, grabbed his wand, then disarmed the bloke who had my wand. I disapparated and got the hell out of there. I originally returned to the river bank. I knew I wouldn't be able to see, so I waited, hoping I'd see one of you, or hear something. After a couple of days, I figured you'd moved on..."

"How would you hope to find us?", Hermione asked to get Ron back on topic.

"This", he replied. He was holding Dumbledore's Putter Outter. "It turns out it doesn't just put out lights. I don't know how it works or why. It just happened. I was in a pub, listening to the radio, having a butterbeer, when I heard you..."

"Me? I was on the radio?"

"No, it was your voice, and it was coming from this. I wanted to come back, more than ever..."

"What was I saying?", she asked.

"'Ron', just my name and something about a wand, I didn't get all of it. So I went back to the room I let, and clicked the button. The lights went out, of course, but another light appeared right outside the window. A bluish ball of light, and I knew this was it. I packed my stuff, and went outside and followed this ball of light. That's when it went right inside me..."

"It did what?", they asked.

"Passed right through me. Felt all warm, even though it was snowing. I knew somehow that it would lead me to you. I disapparated and landed on a hillside. Snow everywhere, wind that blew right through you"

"We were there", Harry said. "We left early, the weather was so lousy, and looked for a more sheltered place to hole up".

"I figured as much. That night, I clicked the deluminator, just hoping. That blue fireball appeared again, and led me here. I still didn't know how to find you guys, and was wondering what to do when I saw Snape's patronus, and Harry following after it".

"You saw _what_!", Hermione asked.

At first, she was wondering if Ron wasn't making this up. However, she doubted even Ronald Weasley could make up a story this wild to excuse his behaviour, his desertion. The rest of the story came out: the sword in the frozen pond. How the horcrux attempted to prevent Harry from recovering the sword, nearly strangling him, drowning him, or death by hypothermia all at once. How Ron happened to come along at just the right time. The last second rescue of Harry from drowning or strangulation. Being confronted by a very upset Professor Snape.

"You say you took a wand from one of the Snatchers?", Harry asked.

"Oh yeah, I figure a back-up might come in handy", Ron said as he opened his rucksack and extracted a short, dark wand.

"Hand it over: mine broke", Harry said.

"You're kidding?", Ron replied. Hermione simply climbed into bed. There would be no further conversation tonight.

"Oh well, could've been worse", Harry said quietly, but not quietly enough.

"Yeah, could've been worse", Ron agreed. "Remember those birds she sicced on me?"

"I still haven't ruled that out", Hermione threatened.

Early the next morning, they gathered outside, by a flat rock. Harry took out the locket, and set it on the rock, its emerald 'S' looking like a miniature serpent sunning itself.

"I think you should be the one to do it", Harry said, as he held out the sword.

"I'd really rather not", Ron objected. "You do it".

"I really think it has to be you. After all, you were the one to rescue the sword from that pond. You know the legends? The one who wields the sword of Gryffindor needs to prove his worthiness to do so. You did that last night".

"But that's just a legend".

"I'm not so sure about that", Harry countered. "I just have a feeling. It needs to be you".

"But that thing and I don't get along. It affected me worse than you two, made me think bad thoughts. Sure, they were mine, but not to that extent. I'd take it off and I couldn't believe some of the things I was casually thinking. What if it attacks me again? Remember Ginny and that diary? How it possessed her? Maybe we're more susceptible? What if it makes me harm..."

"Ron", Harry protested. "You won't let that happen. We, Hermione, Dorugamon, and I trust you. You would never hurt any of us".

Ron turned away, sword dragging behind. He felt a return of his resolve. "OK, what do I do?"

"I'm gonna open it..."

"How? None of us could open it"

"I'm going to ask politely", Harry explained, "in Parseltongue". How he knew this would work, he did not know. He just knew. Maybe it was that psychic connection, or their latest encounter with Nagini. "When it opens, stab it with the sword. Break it. Ready?"

Ron raised the point of the sword. The inside of the locket rattled as though a large cockroach were struggling to get out.

"On the count of three: one... two... three... O_pen_!" The last word coming with a hiss and a snarl. The locket's two doors popped open with a slight click.

Inside was a dark eye, looking like one of Tom Riddle's handsome eyes before he turned them all red and reptilian. The eye spun around, looking up at the point of the sword poised to strike it.

"Ronald Weasley", it said with Voldemort's voice, "I know your heart, and it already belongs to me".

"Don't listen to it! Stab it!"

"I know your deepest desires, and I know your worst fears. Both are possible, neither inevitable..."

"Ron! What're you waiting for?!", real Harry called out.

"Poor Ronald Weasley: a disappointment to his mother's heart by not being the sister she wanted for Ginny. Always last and least in love. Always second best, nothing more than a minor sidekick to the Boy Who Lived".

An image swirled up from the locket: Harry and Hermione, both naked, both weirdly distorted. This image of Hermione looking at once more sinister, and yet more lovely, than the real Hermione.

"You _actually_ thought I wanted you back?", _faux_ Harry laughed. "I was glad to see you go. You were nothing but a bother, always whining, and I laughed at your stupidity and your cowardice..."

"Ron, smash that damn thing!", real Harry pleaded.

"Kill that process this instant!", Dorugamon called out.

"...How presumptuous!"

"Presumptuous!", _faux_ Hermione echoed with a laugh, as her head turned to Ron. _Faux_ Hermione now looked even more lovely, and yet more terrible, than the real Hermione. "You thought I would prefer you? You think any self respecting woman would want you for anything more than a pity fuck? It was your best friend I wanted all along. You never suspected, you silly little boy! Who would ever choose you as a friend other than Harry Potter? No one else would bother to take pity on you. What are you compared to the Chosen One? What have you ever done that could come close?"

"Your mother confessed", _faux_ Harry taunted, "she would prefer me as a son. She would gladly make the exchange. She said so".

"Ron! Smash it! Smash it!", Hermione called out.

The images of Harry and Hermione intertwined, serpent-like, their lips met.

"Do it Ron!", Hermione called out again.

Harry thought he saw a glimmer of red in Ron's eyes. "Ron?"

With renewed determination, the sword point flashed. There was the sound of metal striking metal. A ghostly scream rang out, long, drawn out, fading into the background slowly.

The image was gone, the locket's glass broken out. One small door hung by a single hinge, bent, and sticking out at an oblique angle. Some emeralds had popped out of their settings. The dark blue silk liner smoked slightly. Harry looked back. Ron stood before the smashed locket, his eyes their normal blue.

He looked up: "Git: didn't even know Hermione's Jadin's girlfriend now". He walked back to the tent. Hermione collected the broken locket and gathered up as many stray emeralds as she could find. These she deposited in the beaded handbag.

"What sort of technology is that?", Dorugamon asked. "A holographic projection, yet where are the electronics? It looks like just an empty, small box, not nearly large enough to even contain the power supply? How?"

"What can I say?", Harry began, "it's..."

"...Magic. That's always your explanation, like the force field and the teleportation..."

"A very dark and evil magic, Dorugamon. Just be glad you don't have anything like it in the Digital World".

_Digital World: Suszakumon_

"Impmon, Nymphadoralupin, Remuslupin, Jadinweston - you may rise", Zhuqiaomon said. After they'd regained their feet. "Nymphadoralupin?"

"Yes, Your Majesty".

"You have a parasitic infestation. I shall remove it".

Tonks thought over this for a moment, not realizing what he was talking about at first.

"No! Wait! Your Majesty. It's not a parasite, it's a baby: I'm pregnant".

"Material World reproduction, a messy and inefficient process".

"Also a joyous occasion for us".

"Remuslupin, you seem different from the other Outworlders. Step closer". He did. He wondered what this was about.

"Show me your true form!"


	26. Another Hero Falls

**26) Another Hero Falls**

"We have a problem", Harry was saying after the Locket was destroyed. "How did Snape know? How is he tracking us? Yes, I know Remus said we'd probably be seeing magic the likes of which we'd never seen before, but if he can, then who else?"

"I can answer that question", a voice called out. They looked around before noticing that it was coming from Hermione's handbag. She dug around, pulling out the portrait of Phineas.

"It is I who figured out your whereabouts from your conversations", the portrait explained. "And it is I who has been keeping Headmaster Snape informed of how you've been getting along. There have been some new developments since you left", he explained.

"It was one of your friends who attempted to steal the Sword of Godric Gryffindor from the Headmaster's office..."

"Who?", Harry asked.

"It was Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan..."

"_Whatshappenedtothem?!_", Ron asked frantically.

"Headmaster Snape gave them two weeks of detention, as they claimed it was a prank. However, he was ordered to send the Sword to the vault of Bellatrix Lestrange for safe-keeping. The Headmaster had a replica fabricated, and he sent the copy to Gringott's. He decided that it would be too risky to allow the real sword to stay at Hogwart's. This is when he asked where you were, in order to deliver it to you. As good fortune would have it, I happened to know enough of your location for him to apparate to you".

Then they're alright?", Ron asked.

"Have no fear, though Headmaster Snape upset all sorts of the wrong people by not severely punishing the offenders. Still, at least for now, the Headmaster is in control of Hogwart's".

"Thank Merlin..."

"Thank Merlin indeed".

"I thought Professor McGonagall would be taking over?", Harry asked.

"Minister Thicknesse insisted that Professor Snape be the new Headmaster".

"So they don't suspect..."

"...The assassin of Albus Dumbledore? Hewhomustnotbenamed has full confidence in Headmaster Snape".

"I see. Maybe it would be best if you..."

"That is not possible. You can't torture information from a portrait, nor use ligilimancy. I have been staying at Hogwart's, except for the times I come to you. There is no means for them to discover your location. It pleases me to see you have made new friends during your sojourn".

"Hi, I'm Dorugamon. Is this more magic, or technology?"

"Excuse him", Harry explained. "He's still working out the difference between magic and muggle technology".

"There is confusion..."

"In more ways than one".

"Farewell, Harry Potter and friends". With that, Phineas exited the frame, leaving just the blank background.

"Snape...", Ron thought out loud, "he's really one of the good guys?"

"Yes, I'll tell you about it some time. What news do you bring?", Harry asked.

"Oh yeah... almost forgot...

"These Snatchers are supposed to be as bad as Death Eaters", Ron was saying after he had a run-in with them outside of Upper Flagley. Previously, unknown but for Ron's reporting their existence, their numbers were increasing. "Though the bunch that caught me were pretty pathetic, you can't count on all of them being that stupid and ineffective. I heard on _Potter Watch_..."

"On _what_?" Harry asked.

"_Potter Watch_, that clandestine radio program I've been trying to get", Ron explained as he played with the tuner of the portable radio he'd bought during his absence.

"I don't know about that, I mean, really", Harry complained. Sure, he didn't mind brave souls who took the risk of getting out news instead of Voldemort's propaganda, but he was not ready to believe himself a cult leader. He would have preferred it not be named after him.

"Got it!', Ron announced. "The password this time was 'Albus'. The passwords usually have something to do with the Order", he explained. "That was the main problem: miss one of the irregular episodes, and you loose the password for the next installment. You had to guess, why the passwords were related to the Order of the Phoenix".

"We apologize for out extended absence from the airwaves, which was due to a series of house calls from those delightful Death Eaters in our locale".

"Isn't that Lee Jordan?", Hermione asked.

"I know!", Ron beamed, "cool, ain't it?"

"Tonight, we are rejoined by two of our regular guests. 'Evening boys", Jordan was saying.

"Glad to be here, River".

"Before we hear from Royal and Gadfly, let us take a moment to report on deaths the _Wizarding Wireless News Network_ and the _Daily Prophet_ would you rather not know about. It is with deep regret that we inform our listeners of the deaths of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell..."

Harry suddenly felt a sick swooping in his gut. He exchanged horrified looks with Ron and Hermione. They knew them; Harry knew a Cresswell from school: a second year Hufflepuff. He'd also heard of Dirk Cresswell while impersonating the Ministry detective: Albert Runcorn.

"...a goblin, Gornuk, was also killed. It is believed - hoped - that a muggle born, Dean Thomas, and another unnamed goblin - both believed to have been traveling with Ted Tonks, escaped. If Dean is listening, or if anyone out there knows, would you please get in touch with Dean's parents and/or sisters. They're worried, as you can well imagine.

"In Gaddley, a muggle family of five were found dead: Bill Neesome, his wife Cheryl, and their children: Melissa, Broderick, and two year old Sarah were discovered dead in their home. The authorities are claiming carbon monoxide poisoning from a malfunctioning furnace caused the tragic deaths, but Order members are certain it was the Killing Curse. More evidence, as if any more were required, that muggle slaughter is becoming just another recreational sport under the new regime.

"I would now like our listeners to observe a moment of silence in the memories of Ted Tonks, Gornuk, and the Neesome family..."

All three remained as silent as the radio. Harry had decidedly mixed feelings: he wanted to hear more, yet dreaded what he might hear next. Poor 'Dora: she wouldn't know her father was dead if she was still in the Digital World; Remus wouldn't know his father in law was gone... Ted Tonks would never get to see his grandson or granddaughter.

"Thank you", Lee said, "and now we turn to regular contributor Royal for news of the Wizarding World and the impact on the Muggle World".

"Kingsley!", Ron exclaimed, to hushing sounds.

"Muggles remain ignorant of what is causing the problems they can't help but notice, as they continue to sustain heavy casualties", Shacklebolt was explaining. "However, we continue to hear inspiring stories of magi who put their lives and liberty on the line to reach out to muggle friends, co-workers, and neighbours, usually without their knowledge, occasionally with. The protection of innocent life has always been an exception to the Law of Secrecy, both legally and morally. I appeal to our listeners to emulate their examples. Take a few minutes to cast protective spells and charms over muggle dwellings, schools, churches, places of business around your block. Many lives could be saved by taking a few simple steps".

"What would you say to those who would say 'Magi first' in these trying times of uncertainty and doubt?"

"I would remind everyone that it is but a few short steps from 'Magi first' to 'Half bloods first' to 'Pure bloods first' to 'Death Eaters first'. If we do not stand up for others today, who will be left to stand up for us tomorrow? We are all human, and every human life is precious. Every human life is worth defending. To act otherwise is to be no better than he-who-must-not-be-named and his Death Eater followers. It is as simple as that".

"I couldn't put it better myself", Jordan replied. "You'd have my vote for Minister - if we ever have another that is. And now over to Gadfly for our popular feature: _Pals of Potter_.

This was another familiar voice: that of Mad Eye.

"We know", Hermione whispered before Ron could interrupt.

"Gadfly, do you still say that Harry Potter is alive and well? You have consistently held this opinion ever since your first appearance with us".

"I do", Mad Eye said with not the slightest trace of doubt. "No doubt whatsoever. If Mr. Potter had been killed or captured, it would be sensational news for, well, we all know who. Such news would demoralize the resistance. The body would be displayed far and wide. A nice show trial and execution would serve the regime in multiple ways. The regime could instill even more fear as it would be seen as that much closer to omnipotent. If the great Harry Potter, the Chosen One, could be captured, then what chance would the less favoured stand? If official channels are silent on the subject, then they have nothing favourable to their cause to report. Harry's still out there, alive and well".

"What would you say to him if you could?"

"I'd tell him that we are with him in spirit, despite how cliched that may sound. Remind him that he is not alone, that there are plenty of folks who're doing their part, in ways large and small, to resist the New World Order that is being imposed, wanted or not, on the rest of us. That we are thinking of him, and wishing him our best, even if circumstances limit our contribution to that. I would also tell him to trust his instincts. He may be a kid wizard, but I've seen him come a long way since that first day Albus introduced us"

"Now our regular update on the persecutions of the friends of Potter", Jordan was saying. "As regular listeners know, several of the more outspoken supporters of Potter and the resistance have been imprisoned. Xenophilius Lovegood, publisher of _The Quibbler_, being the latest voice silenced. Lovegood and _The Quibbler_ have long been supportive of Harry Potter, even before it was popular to do so..."

"At least he's still alive", Ron said.

"We have heard within the past few hours that Rubeus Hagrid..."

At the mention of the name, all attention riveted on the receiver, breathe held.

"...game keeper for Hogwart's, has narrowly avoided arrest on the campus of the school itself. Rubeus had hosted a 'Support Harry Potter' party at the game keeper's cabin. Death Eaters and surors raided the illicit party, but Hagrid managed to escape, and is still reported to be at large".

Sighs of relief, now that they could resume breathing. They were convinced that no one would be arresting Hagrid any time soon. Not the way he knew the Forbidden Forest.

"While we here at _Potter Watch_ applaud the spirit of Hagrid", Gadfly was saying, "we do not encourage emulation. Support Harry Potter parties are unwise in today's political climate. Low key, lone wolf opposition is the best option at the moment".

"I quite agree Gadfly", Jordan was saying. "Though public shows of defiance can be satisfying, you won't have much chance to oppose the regime from a cell in Azkaban. Now, turning to news of another wizard who is proving to be as elusive as Potter, to whom we like to refer as the Big DIC: Death Eater in Charge. For more news and views, we turn to Rodent..."

"Please...", another familiar voice was saying.

"Fred!", everyone said at once.

"No, not Fred, George", Ron said. "I think... no, Fred"

"...I'm not gonna be 'Rodent'. I prefer to be known as 'Rapier'".

"OK, Rapier it is. Can you give us your analysis concerning news of the Big DIC?"

"Yes, River, I can. Unless our listeners have just emerged from a cave in Tora Bora, they are well aware that you-know-who's strategy of staying in the background is working to spread more uncertainty and fear than if he just appeared in public, announced that he was calling all the shots from now on. Of course, this has also worked to further the spread of a great many wild and counter productive rumours. Things are sufficiently bad that there is no reason to make stuff up.

"Take, for example, the latest story making the rounds: that he can kill with nothing more than a glance. That's a _basilisk_, folks. There's an easy way to tell: if the creature eyeballing you has two or more legs, you have nothing to worry about: you can look at its eyes. Of course, you should hope that it isn't the Big DIC".

"What of rumours that he's been sighted overseas?"

"If every such rumour were true, there'd have to be a dozen of him. Who wouldn't want to take a few days off, kick back and chill after all the hard work the Big DIC has put in? Point is, people, don't allow yourselves to be lulled into a sense of false security just because your best friend heard from an old school chum who heard it from the father in law of that guy down the hall office at work that he was seen partying in Uzbekistan. Yes, he can fly and move faster than Snape running from a bottle of shampoo, so don't count on his being reported a long way off for your safety. You can also do your part by refusing to share in idle gossip, or by helping to spread nonsensical rumours. If you didn't hear it from _Potter Watch_, assume it's false. We will do our best here to get you the most reliable information in as timely a manner as possible".

"Thank you for those words of wisdom, Rapier. That brings us to the conclusion of tonight's episode of _Potter Watch_. No guarantees of when our next episode will be broadcast, but keep spinning those dials. We _will_ be back. The next password will be 'mad eye'. Until then, stay safe, keep the faith, and good night from all of us here at _Potter Watch_".

"Pretty slick, ehhh?", Ron asked.

"Brilliant", Harry agreed.

"It really is courageous of them", Hermione said. "Too bad they didn't consult Jadin. I'm sure he'd know some way to make their voices unrecognizable. If they ever get caught..."

"I'm sure they're always on the move, one step ahead, like us", Ron said.

"Disturbing...", Harry began.

"I think it's time for muggle news", Hermione announced as she retrieved Harry's gift PDA. "We'll need to leave the perimeter..."

"I'll protect", Dorugamon volunteered.

The news from the muggle world was just as bad: more mysterious murders, some in broad daylight, the suicides brought on by the dementors who were now allowed to run wild among the muggle population. The rising discontent with the Prime Minister, and discussions of a possible vote of No Confidence, and the dissolution of the government.

Not all news was bad: something was different this time. Muggle technology was better, including home security systems, and one aristocratic old lady had successfully defended herself with an old family heirloom: a side-by-side, 10Ga. goose gun. A load of double-ought buck ended the careers of two Death Eaters. The police recovered the bodies, and so knew what the Death Eater uniform looked like. Muggles were alerted to report and avoid such people. More and more muggles were installing these systems that worked like Sneak-o-scopes. This time, not even apparition was as fool proof.

Another was taken down with something called a "Taser" that worked as efficiently as a Stunning Spell. Citizens nearly beat him to a pulp before the London Constabulary arrived. (Of course, the prisoner had somehow escaped from a locked cell.) Soldiers were getting the drop on Death Eaters, and it looked a lot like muggle-born to Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

"I knew it!", Harry exclaimed. "You heard what Fred just said? He's abroad! That means he's searching for the Elder Wand". The name referred to what it was made of. Also known as the Wand of Destiny and the Death Stick.

"Harry", Hermione replied, exasperated. "That's just a kids' story..."

"I don't get why you are so determined not to believe! You said it yourself: there are powerful, ancient magical artifacts. Even if that part about the Peverell brothers' meeting Death is a load of tosh, couldn't they have created the Deathly Hallows themselves? I don't see how you can so easily dismiss the possibility that Vol..."

"HARRY! NO!" Hermione exclaimed.

"...demort just might know a thing or two about the Elder Wand?!"

"The name's Taboo. We can't say it anymore... Dorugamon! Hide quickly! If they come, get to our special friend..."

"I'll protect..."

"No, hide. If there's any trouble, get to... what we said before. Understand?"

Harry's Sneak-o-scope alerted. Dorugamon slipped out and disappeared into the woods. They could hear voices outside, distressingly close. There would be no time to reestablish the protective perimeter. They must have been waiting for this, they came so suddenly.

"Come out with your hands up!", demanded a raspy voice. "We know you're in there. There are a half dozen wands pointed at you right now, and we don't give a rat's ass who we curse!"

_The Digital World: Suszakumon_

Remus was enveloped with a deep red light. Jadin had heard of dark digivolution, and now he was seeing one in progress. Lupin threw his head back and began to scream.

"How can this be happening?!", Tonks asked. "It's not a full moon... Oh my God! He didn't have wolfsbane!", the potion formulation that, while it didn't prevent the transformation, allowed him to retain human awareness. Without it, he would lose all consciousness of ever having been human, with no means to control the werewolf's natural predatory instincts.

The transformation had begun. Lupin was tearing out of his clothes as his height and weight increased. His screams took on a canine-ish sound. Ankles wrenched out of their sockets as they became digitigrade. Gray fur began covering bare skin. Face and jaws elongated. The red light dissipated. Lupin stood there, sort of whimpering, confused.

Then he threw his head back and howled loudly, just like a wolf. He turned towards the others, bared his fangs, and came towards them on all four legs. Jadin, Impmon and Tonks backed away. Jadin and Impmon had no idea what to do. If they attacked, they would harm the one they called friend while in human form. Looking like a grotesque timber wolf, far too tall, and legs too thin and long. He could walk either bipedally or quadrupedally with equal ease and speed. He growled menacingly.

"Stupefy!", Tonks had her wand out. The red light struck Lupin, slowed him down, but didn't stop him.

"Petrificus Totalis!", the second hit took him down as he collapsed to the floor.

"How could you?", she snarled at Zhuqiaomon. "HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THING?!", she accused, as she knelt beside the inert form of her transformed husband. She couldn't understand how such a thing could happen. It wasn't the time of the full moon yet; there was no Moon here. Nothing but stars and the Material World Sphere in the night sky.

"Fascinating", Zhuqiaomon said. "You are dismissed, and I shall consider all that I have heard and seen".

Tonks burned with unspoken anger. No apology for what he did to her husband, no commitment to an alliance.

"Impmon: digimon should believe in digimon, not humans. Stay here with us", Zhuqiaomon addressed him.

"My Lord, I made a promise to Jadin and his friends. Don't ask me to betray that trust".

"I do not approve of your lifestyle, but if it is your wish to keep your commitments, I shall not stand in your way".

_The Burrow_

The digital field dissipated. Remus, now fully human, unconscious, and completely naked, Impmon and Jadin, and Tonks found themselves back at the Burrow, in the garden where the reception had been held. There was no sign that anyone was there, no activity from the house, and she was certain that at least some of the Weasleys or their guests would have seen their arrival. She took comfort in the realization that no one else had seen either. Tonks draped her robe over Remus.

"Looks like they're gone", Tonks said. "Evacuated".

"Let's hope so. Maybe they won't be watching too closely", Jadin said. "I guess they won't mind. Look after him", he said as he headed for the door leading into the kitchen. Jadin kicked in the flimsy door, and it gave way easily. He headed upstairs, to Arthur's and Molly's bedroom. Hopefully, they didn't take everything. Jadin found some of Arthur's old clothes. Might not be a perfect fit, but it would have to do.

He pulled the back door as closed as he could.

"Found these", Jadin said as he handed over the clothes. He and Impmon turned their backs before Tonks reversed her stunning spell.

Remus came to: "WHERE?!", he asked frantically.

"It's OK, honey, we're back at the Burrow", Tonks explained.

Noticing his state of nudity: "I... transformed? Did I..."

"No, it's OK. You didn't hurt anyone", Tonks reassured.

"The last thing I remember... the audience chamber... that red light...".

"Zhuqiaomon doesn't understand werewolves. He knew you weren't the same, but he believed it was a different digivolution. I didn't think the digientelechia would work on you, since you're not a digimon". Impmon decided that now was not the time to tell him about dark digivolutions. "I suppose, since you were also data, you digivolved just like you do here".

Tonks explained gently. "It would seem our audience is over".

"Where could they have gone?", Jadin asked.

"Ron's Aunt Muriel's place. Not too far away, and it's the most likely place. Closer than Shell Cottage, and Muriel has a lot more room than Bill and Fleur".

They decided on apparition, Lupin took Jadin, and Tonks took Impmon. There was sure to be Fidelius Charms and other wards in place, so they would be unable to actually apparate inside the house. Every home of members of the Order were likewise likely to be under constant surveillance as well. This meant that an approach would be noticed. The only alternative was to apparate right to the front doorstep. This sort of accuracy was not easy to accomplish, and usually, not necessary. However, if they pulled it off, their arrival would go unnoticed by anyone watching from outside the perimeter.

"Open up", Remus pounded at the front door, "it's Remus John Lupin, werewolf, husband of Nymphadora Tonks, just back from the Digital World". Molly Weasley opened the door to let them in. They'd guessed right: they had evacuated to Aunt Muriel's.

"So that's what happened to you? Mad Eye said you might go, but the fight... We weren't expecting you to leave so suddenly"

"My fault", Jadin explained. "It seemed like a good time to get out of there. No time to say 'good-bye'".

"Yes, of course, quite understandable actually".

"How is everyone?", Lupin asked anxiously.

"They were looking for Harry, naturally, but no one knew anything. Our cover story about cousin Barney held, and since so many guests disapparated, they figured he'd left, and didn't ask to see him. Viktor was Fluer's guest, and he didn't admit that Hermione had been here. We convinced them that Ron was down with Spattergroit, and they didn't check too closely as it's highly contagious. Harry, Ron and Hermione got away.

The Death Eaters grilled all the guests they could round up for half the night, but fortunately they didn't retaliate. I guess they, at least, had some respect for a marriage ceremony. Dawlish was with them. They are, however, watching the house. I hope they didn't notice or detect your apparating".

"We didn't apparate", Jadin explained, "it's an entirely different process, and one they wouldn't know how to detect. Since we returned back to the garden, no one would have seen if they're watching the front door. Maybe they didn't see the digital field? Even if they did, they wouldn't know what they were seeing anyway".

Ginny was arriving from upstairs: "You're back!", she exclaimed, as she gave welcome home hugs to the new arrivals. "Aren't those Dad's..."

"Yeah, I had to kick in the back door at the Burrow", Jadin apologized. "It's a long story..."

"That four-eyed buzzard forced Remus to transform. Didn't seem to feel the least bit bad about what he did to my husband", Tonks complained.

"Who?", Fred asked.

"She means Zhuqiaomon", Jadin told him, "the Sovereign we finally managed to see in an audience. He looks like Fawkes, except he is bigger, with two sets of wings and eyes".

"Where's Harry?", Lupin asked.

"Where's Hermione?", Jadin asked.

"We have no idea", Arthur explained. "We haven't seen or heard from them since the wedding. I sent my patronus, but I have no idea if they got the message to stay away from the Burrow. I suppose they did, but I also instructed them not to answer back. So far, we haven't heard anything on the wireless, or seen anything in the _Prophet_ about their being apprehended. All we can do is hope for the best".

"That was disappointing", Remus said to Jadin.

"I was expecting as much", Jadin replied. "At least Zhuqiaomon didn't outright refuse to help, but I wouldn't count on it. I think it's high time to see if there are more Mentors here, time to consider getting backup. I'll need my lappy, but I left it at Grimmauld..."

"Won't work, the magical fields..."

"It'll work in town. Hope Ottery St. Catchpole has a cyber cafe. If they don't, then we'll have to do some war driving, find an open wireless connection we can borrow".

"You'll be exposed, out in the open...", Arthur complained.

"It's Harry they want, not me. I doubt that the battery will still hold a charge after being left sitting for months, and you're not wired for electricity - no way to recharge here".

"I don't like it, too risky".

"What about Mad Eye and his Polyjuice? He didn't use all of it did he?"

"What good will that do? You still need hair, and if you go looking like one of us..."

"Not necessarily", Ginny said. "Fleur's maids of honour dressed in my bedroom. I lent my hairbrush. I mean if Jadin didn't mind..."

"That's better than perfect", Jadin replied. "They won't be looking for girls, and if that stuff works like it did before, they'll never suspect a thing. Tonks, shape-shifter: need I explicate?"

"Where did you leave it?", Remus asked.

"My bedroom. Everything is in a black leather case".

Lupin stepped outside to apparate. He returned after about fifteen minutes.

"Good, that's it. Now we can call for some backup", Jadin said.

"Grimmauld Place is crawling with Death Eaters watching Harry's house. I hope to hell they don't decide to return there", Lupin explained.

Thanks to Mad Eye's Polyjuice, Ginny's hair brush, and wardrobe, Jadin was unrecognizable to all but Impmon. Now transformed into a fair skinned blond in a slinky black outfit borrowed from Ginny's muggle collection (and of which her mother did not approve) he came downstairs, somewhat wobbly on high heels, to the predictable wolf whistles and indecent proposals from the Weasley twins. Tonks accompanied him, and they apparated to just outside Ottery St. Catchpole. This town was large enough to have a cafe that offered Internet and power connections.

"Death Eaters", Tonks whispered, as she pointed inconspicuously to the two otherwise ordinary looking men sitting in a booth across the floor. "I recognize the one", she said.

"Don't worry about it", he told her, "working with computers has got to be the _last_ thing they'd expect of any wizard", Jadin pointed out. "Besides, we don't exactly look ourselves".

It was something Tonks forgot: Death Eaters wouldn't be expecting any of the Order to be working a laptop, or even to know what one was. Tonks she saw that he was right: the Death Eaters paid no further attention as soon as the laptop came out, even if they didn't recognize them as residents of the town. Jadin began his appeal:

_Dear UK Mentors:_

_You don't know me. My name is Jadin Weston, my partner is Impmon, and I ask that you read this communique to the end. What I am about to tell you will sound completely whacked. However, I ask that you at least keep an open mind. Remember what it was like when you still thought digimon were just characters in a TV show and video game? What would you have said if anyone told you they really do exist? This is what I'm about to do to you._

_There is no easy way to say it, so I'm just gonna come straight out with it: magic is real. Witches, wizards, warlocks - they are real, as real as digimon. Elves and fae likewise exist. Having gotten that out of the way, I'm sure you've noticed all the strange stories coming out: the unsolved murders taking place under circumstances that leave police investigators flummoxed. The freak "accidents", the plane crashes, the derailments that take place under clear weather, and that remain unexplained. The rash of missing children. The freak weather that occurs over very limited areas. This, all of this, is the responsibility of one who calls himself Lord Voldemort or the Dark Lord, and of his followers who call themselves the Death Eaters. You will not be seeing these names in the news anytime soon. But I can assure you, they are very real and very dangerous._

_My friends among the wizards have formed an organization, The Order of the Phoenix, to oppose Lord Voldemort. They understand all about digimon, and us Mentors and our partners. They need our help, and I am asking on their behalf for all the help I can get. If you would be so willing, reply with your name and address. Should your help be required, a representative of the Order will contact you. Magi have a method of teleportation they call "apparition". This is how contact will be made. No one will force you to come, but should your help be needed, this is how you will know about it. So do not be afraid if someone unknown to you should suddenly appear before you in a flash of light and a bang. They will identify themselves as being of the Order of the Phoenix_

_I would also like to point out that it is as important to non-magi as it is to magi to oppose and defeat Lord Voldemort. If all goes well, then there will be very few here who will ever hear that name. By the time Lord Voldemort becomes a house-hold word, it will be too late for all of us._

_If you have read this far, I thank you._

_If you decide to help us, I double thank you._

_Regards,_

_Jadin & Impmon_

After Jadin had entered his communique, he connected the lap top's USB port via the usual connection to a special port concealed behind a small cover on the digivice. It was simply a matter of mounting the digivice as a block device, and transfer the file. It appeared on the digivice's LCD screen, and Jadin selected the "Send Message" function from the pull-down menus.

"That's as much as we can do. Now we wait for replies", Jadin told Tonks. "Let's get out of Dodge before we meet with any more". Tonks had no argument.

"So how was your date last night, and give me all the juicy details", Jadin said as they passed the two "construction workers".

"He was nothing but paws all night", Tonks improvised.

"I hate that", Jadin said.

The "construction workers" continued past, paying no attention to the two muggle girls, one with a laptop case slung over a shoulder. Jadin would never forget Travers and MacDerwin: two of the Death Eaters who'd attacked at his high school. After taking over the Ministry, these two had been released from Azkaban.

_Forest of Dean_

Hermione whipped out her wand, but didn't point it at the outside of the tent. Instead, she pointed it at Harry. He saw a flash of white, felt something like fire on his face, he dropped to his knees. He wondered why she'd done that, as he felt his face, he realized that it was swelling grotesquely, features distorting, covered with boils. As though undergoing a severe allergic reaction. He realized that Hermione improvised a disguise with the few seconds available to her.

The Snatchers forced their way inside. "Get up, vermin!", the one in charge ordered as he pulled Harry to his feet roughly. He could barely see through eyes nearly swollen shut. Hands went through his pockets, taking the blackthorn wand.

"Get your hands off her!", came Ron's voice, followed by the unmistakable sound of knuckles hitting a body.

"Your boyfriend will get a lot worse than that if he doesn't learn to behave".

"What have we here?", another asked. "Sweet young thing, nice soft skin. We'll make sure your pussy gets broken in right", there was laughter. The one stroking Hermione's cheek said that.

Harry felt his stomach turn over, that they could so casually talk of raping Hermione, that they would find this funny. He had no doubt about their intentions, and wondered how many others they'd raped. Harry had never before encountered the slimy underbelly of the Wizarding World, of which 'Dung was but a faint echo. Fletcher got sticky-fingered around the possessions of those who trusted him. He shamelessly robbed a dead man the very night he died. He peddled his ill-gotten gains in the back alleys of Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. But Harry knew that 'Dung would never stoop so low: to traffic in lives, to rape a young woman, even if he knew he could get away with it. His standards were warped, to be sure, but at least he had standards, lines he would never cross.

Not this crew. Bounty hunters who never lived so well, had so much money in their lives, and who could not care less about who they hurt so long as it kept rolling in. The ideal sycophants.

Harry was dropped face down on the dirt. A second thud could only be Ron.

"Search the tent", came another order. They were not gentle, as he could hear them throwing around furniture and overturning bags.

"Ellsamatter wiff yer fice?", one demanded of Harry, as he was yanked to his feet. He said nothing.

"I _said_, Ugly", the one demanded, "wass wrong wiff yer fice?", as he slammed his fist into Harry's gut, doubling him over.

"Allergic reaction", Harry gasped. "Peanut oil..."

"Looks about right", another agreed.

"Name", he demanded.

"Dudley", Harry replied.

"First name?"

"Vernon... Vernon Dudley"

"Check that name against the list, Scaboir"

"And what about you, Ginger?", he asked of Ron.

"Stan Shunpike". Ron hadn't the time to think of any other alias. Besides, it had worked once with the Snatchers.

"Like ell you are!", the one called Scaboir challenged. "I know Stan: he's put a bit o work our way". There was another thud.

"I'b Bardey", Ron said, his nose broken. "Bardey Weadley"

"A Weasley, eh? Related to blood traitors even if you're not a mudblood yourself. And lastly, your pretty little friend?"

The lust in his voice made Harry's skin crawl.

"Penelope Clearwater", Hermione replied immediately.

"Blood status?", he asked.

"Half blood", she replied.

"Easy enough to check", Scaboir announced, "but the lot uvum look to be Ogwart's age..."

"We'b lebt", Ron said.

"Leff, ave you, Ginger. And you juss cided to go campin, didja?"

"We'b not aloubd in thuh girls' dormabdory", Ron hoped that an assignation would look like a believable reason for them to leave school to camp out.

"And you thought, just for shits 'n' giggles, you'd use the Dark Lord's name?"

"It wub an aggiden".

"An accident?", there was laughter.

"You know who else likes to use the Dark Lord's name? The Order of the Phoenix, that's who. Mean anything to you?"

"Doh"

"They don't show the proper respect for the Dark Lord, and take his name in vain".

Harry was shoved into a sitting position. He was back-to-back with the others, as they were bound together. Harry was still half blind, barely able to see through puffy eyelids that wouldn't co-operate.

"No Vernon Dudley on the list", Scaboir reported.

"Interesting. That's interesting"

The leader crouched, eye level with Harry: "So you're not wanted, Vernon - if that's your real name, that is. What House were you in?"

"Slytherin..."

"_All_ these fugitives, run-aways, and mudbloods are in Slytherin!". There was laughter all around. "What an amazing coincidence, ehh?".

"However, they can never tell us where the Common Room is...", another was saying.

"It's in the dungeons. You enter through the wall. The common room is decorated with skulls, and because it's under the lake, green light filters through the skylight". There was a short pause of surprise.

"Well, well, it looks like we _do_ have a wayward Slytherin. Good for you Vernon, because there are very few mudbloods who'd know that. Who's your father?"

"He works for the Ministry: Department of Magical Accidents", Harry improvised, knowing that even a cursory investigation would blow the whole cover story. That would happen soon enough when Hermione's jinx wore off and his features returned to normal.

"Know what?", another said. "I remember a Dudley, who _does_ work for that Department".

Harry couldn't believe it: could he get that lucky: to have selected an alias they recognized? Maybe getting out of this jam wasn't as impossible as it at first seemed?

"Well, well". Harry heard the note of trepidation in the leader's voice. He was considering the possibility that he'd made the mistake of attacking the son of a Ministry official and his friends. "If you're telling the truth, Ugly, then you have nothing to fear from a visit to the Ministry; I 'spect your dad'll reward us for bringing you in".

"But if you just let us...", Harry was interrupted.

"Hey! Take a look at this!", one was exiting the tent, the sword of Gryffindor in his hand. Harry could only hope that it was too dark to notice the name engraved on the blade.

"Veeeery nice. Very nice indeed. Looks goblin made, that. Where'd you get something like this?"

"My father, we borrowed it... for protection: mudblood bandits, yannow". Harry hoped to play into their pure blood prejudice. And he'd seen for himself muggle-born and mudbloods reduced to begging for spare Newts in Diagon Alley after their wands had been confiscated; heard that some dispossessed magi whose blood status didn't measure up had taken to highway robbery out of pure desperation to support themselves and their families, and for vengeance against those who benefited from their more favourable blood status.

"'Ang on a minute: look at this. In the _Prophet_", Scaboir was saying. He handed over a copy he'd found in the tent: "Ermione Granger, the mudblood who's known to be traveling with Arry Potter".

The leader looked over the copy, and showed it to Hermione: "You know what? This looks one _helluvalot_ like you, Girly", the leader accused.

"It isn't! That's not me!", Hermione replied, the panic in her voice as good as a confession. So much for Harry's good luck.

"...known to be traveling with Arry Potter", the leader repeated. "That's interesting... interesting indeed".

He studied Harry's face more closely: "What's that on your forehead?", he asked. Harry said nothing. "I thought Potter wore glasses".

"We found glasses in the tent", one called out.

"Bring 'em here", he requested. Seconds later, his glasses were placed on his swollen nose. The Snatchers gathered around.

"It is!" the leader crowed. "We caught Harry Potter!"

They stepped back, stunned by what they'd accomplished.

"What now?", one asked, "take 'em to the Ministry?"

"T'ell with the Ministry! Those bastards will take all the credit and we won't get a look in. I say we take him straight to the Dark Lord himself".

"You want to summon 'im 'ere?"

"No. He's using Malfoy's place as his headquarters. We'll take the lot uvum there, call the Dark Lord if he isn't in".

"You're completely sure it's him? Cuzz iffin it ain't, we're dead", came an objection.

"'Oo's in charge 'ere? I say it's Potter, and 'im wiff 'is whan, that's 200,000 Galleons right there! If yer're too gutless and want out, be my guest. I'll be appy to add your share to my own. With any luck, I'll get the girl thrown in too".

"What about the rest?"

"We'll take 'em too. Runaways, truants, and a filthy mudblood: they'll be worth a few extra Galleons. It all adds up".

They disapparated, and Dorugamon came out of hiding. The Snatchers hadn't been paying attention past the immediate surroundings. He would have fired a Power Metal, but could not find a clear shot. He spread his wings. At least he knew where to go for help, where Harry and his friends had been taken, though he had a long flight ahead of him.

_Malfoy Manor_

Harry and the others apparated just outside a gate along a country lane. A long, hedge-lined drive lead to the mansion. Harry could tell that, so far, Voldemort was not here. That was a relief, but not much of one. When called, he would arrive within minutes.

One of the Snatchers tried the wrought iron gate. He gave it a rattle: "Locked. How do we..."

He broke off, and leapt backwards. The gate's abstract frills and curlie-cues were bending themselves into a frightening face. The face spoke in an intimidating, clanking, echoing voice: "State your business!", it demanded.

"We got Potter!", the leader called out. "We captured 'Arry Potter!"

The gates swung open, and they were pushed and pulled along the drive. Harry spotted an albino peacock by the hedges lining the drive. It wasn't easy, as Harry was still tied back-to-back with four other prisoners. Sometimes, he had to walk backwards, others, sideways. Always receiving punches for not keeping up.

Finally, a light flooded around them: "What is the meaning of this?", a feminine voice demanded.

"I know 'e's all swoll, Ma'am, but it's 'im. 'Ere's 'is whan", he said, offering the blackthorn wand Ron had confiscated from the other Snatcher during his escape. "If you look closer, you can see 'is scar. And this 'ere: see the girl? The mudblood wot's been traveling with 'im. There's no doubt it's 'im".

Harry could see Narcissa Malfoy scrutinizing his face. Did she believe? She made her decision: "Bring them in".

Harry and the others were shoved and kicked into a broad hallway lined with portraits.

"Follow me", Narcissa led the way. "Draco is home. If it's really Potter, then he will know", Narcissa was explaining.

She led them into the former drawing room, now Voldemort's conference room. The room dazzled even through nearly closed eyes after the darkness. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Two armchairs faced an ornate fireplace. More portraits hung on the dark purple walls.

"What is this?", the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy only too obvious. Harry was nearly in a state of panic. There would be no way out of this mess.

"They say they've got Potter", Narcissa announced. "Draco, come over here".

Draco was approaching, somewhat taller than Potter. He did his best to avoid looking Draco in the eye. He didn't know what else he could do, even if he suspected this was a mistake. Scaboir turned his prisoners so that Harry was directly under the chandelier.

"Well, boy?", he prodded.

"Well Draco, is it Potter?", Lucius asked.

"I can't...", Draco hesitated. "...be sure", he said.

"Come closer. Look harder", Lucius said. "If we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, all will be for...". Harry had never heard Lucius so excited before now.

"You wouldn't be fergittin' who it was what caught 'im, now wouldja, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Of course not! Of course not!", Lucius said impatiently. He came to have a closer look for himself. "What did you do to him?", Malfoy asked.

"Not us. 'E was like that when we caught him. Said 'e was 'lergic or sumpin'"

"Looks like a Stinging Jinx, possibly" He looked closer: "There's something there", he said. "it could be the scar, stretched and distorted... Draco: have a proper look. What do you think?"

Standing side-by-side emphasized just how much alike Draco and Lucius actually were. The main difference was the look of excitement on Lucius' face. Draco, on the other hand, looked very anxious: what would he do? Betray his father, or betray a fellow Hogwartian?

"I don't know", he insisted, as he began to walk away.

"Before we summon the Dark Lord, we'd better be absolutely certain", Narcissa said. "Completely sure it's Potter. They claim he had this...", Narcissa showed the blackthorn wand. "It doesn't match the description of Potter's wand that Ollivander provided... If we are mistaken... if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing...", Narcissa didn't need to finish that thought. Voldemort's instructions were quite clear: don't bother him for anything less than Potter. So, too, were the consequences of failing to heed those instructions.

"What about the mudblood, then? Can you deny this is Granger?", the head Snatcher argued. Harry nearly fell over as the prisoners swiveled around, so that Hermione was under the light.

"Wait", Narcissa said. "Yes, yes, she was at Madam Malkin's with Potter! Look, Draco, this is the Granger girl?"

"I... maybe... yeah", Draco replied without enthusiasm.

"Then this would have to be the Weasley boy", she continued.

Lucius walked around the prisoners: "Isn't this Arthur Weasley's son... what's his name? It's Potter's friends and associates. Where ever they are, Potter can't be far behind. Draco, look at him..."

"Yeah, it could be", he replied.

"What's going on? What's happened, Cissy?", Harry would never forget that voice. Bellatrix Lestrange was arriving. She noticed the collection of prisoners and walked around them, examining them. she stopped just to Harry's right.

"The mudblood girl? Granger, is it?", she said.

"Yes, it's Granger!", Lucius told her, exasperated. "And next to her, Potter, we think".

"Harry Potter!", Bellatrix squealed. "The Dark Lord must be informed at once!", she said as she rolled up her left sleeve, the Dark Mark clearly visible, finger of her right hand ready to touch it. Lucius grabbed her wrist.

"I was just about to do that. _I_ shall be the one to summon him. This is my house, and it will be done on my authority..."

"_Your_ authority!", she laughed. "You lost what little authority you had when you lost your wand", she taunted. "Now get your paws off me!", she demanded.

"This doesn't concern you, you had nothing to do with capturing the boy..."

"_Mister_ Malfoy, it's us what caught the boy, and it's us that'll be claimin' the gold..."

"Gold!", Bellatrix laughed at him. "You can have your blood money, you filthy little scavenger. I don't seek gold, only the honour of serving...", she stopped in mid-sentence. It looked as though she spotted something...

Jubilant at what he took for capitulation, Lucius pulled up his own left sleeve.

"STOP!", Bellatrix screamed in terror. "Don't touch it! We're dead if the Dark Lord comes now!" The sheer horror in her voice caused Lucius to freeze, index finger hovering over the Dark Mark. She rushed over to one of the Snatchers.

"What's this?", she asked.

"Sword", he replied.

"Where did you get this? Give it to me..."

"T'ain't yorn", the Snatcher protested. "It's mine, I reckon, I found it".

There was a flash of red and a bang. The Snatcher had been stunned. The other three shrieked in rage. They knew that these "high class" Malfoy's were going to screw them over, just like everyone who considered themselves above their station, to claim not just the credit, but the reward. They were drawing their wands.

"Stupefy!", Bellatrix fired back. "Stupefy!"

Even though she was outnumbered four to one, the Snatchers never stood a chance. She had learned from the best, and even though slowed down by a lack of practice during her years in Azkaban, her skill with a wand exceeded theirs by far. Three fell where they stood. The remaining one on his knees, unable to move.

"Draco, take out the garbage", she ordered. "If you don't have the guts to dispose of them yourself, leave them in the courtyard and I'll take care of it later".

"Don't talk to Draco like that...", Narcissa protested.

"SHUT UP!", Bellatrix screamed. "You have _no_ idea, as to the danger we're in!" Turning to the remaining Snatcher: "Where did you get this sword?", she asked.

"How dare you!", the only thing that still worked was his mouth. "Release me at once woman!", he demanded.

"Where did you find this sword?", she brandished it in his face. "Snape sent it to my vault at Gringott's!"

"Found it in their tent... Now release me this instant!", he continued to protest.

"We have a very serious problem", Bellatrix explained, "A very serious problem indeed...", she would not elaborate, but it was sinking in by now that something had gone seriously wrong somehow. Lucius knew that if he called the Dark Lord, and he discovered that the Malfoy's had somehow screwed up again, he could forget about the Dark Lord's forgiveness even if the prisoners were Potter and his friends.

She reversed the spell: "Take them to the cellar", Bellatrix ordered.

"Do it: take them downstairs", Narcissa agreed.

"Wait", Bellatrix called out: "Everyone but for Miss Mudblood", as she pulled out a knife with a short, sharp blade and a silver handle, and began to cut Hermione free from the others.

"No!", Ron called out. "Take me instead. Let her go", he pleaded.

"I'll keep that in mind if she doesn't survive the interrogation", Bella threatened.

"Let me strip her naked", the Snatcher leader offered his assistance.

There was a pop and a yelp: "Maybe I should cut it off completely", Bellatrix threatened, "then maybe you'll have no choice but to think with your big head and not your little one. I need her lucid enough to tell me what I need to know! Now get them downstairs!"

Harry could feel Ron shaking with fear and rage. It was not easy, being shoved down the narrow, steep stairs. If anyone fell, the rest would go along for the ride, with injuries assured. Once in the dungeon-like basement, their escort unlocked a door with a tap of his wand. They found themselves shoved into a dark make-shift cell.

A terrible, long drawn-out scream penetrated through the floor above.

"HERMIONE", Ron called out, frustrated that he could do nothing.

"Be quite", Harry admonished. Ron was struggling against the ropes, nearly pulling them over.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!", he called out as more screams reached them from upstairs.

"Ron, SHUT UP!", Harry ordered. "Stay still: if we're gonna be of any help, we need to get these ropes off".

"That you, Harry?", he heard a familiar voice call from the darkness. "Ron? Harry?", the voice said again. There seemed to be movement nearby.

"Lu... Luna?", Harry asked.

"Yes, it's me!", Luna confirmed. "Can't say I'm happy to see you, though".

"Do you know some way we can get these ropes off?", Harry asked.

"I expect so", Luna told him, "we found a nail we use when we need to break something... Just a moment..." Luna was moving in the dark. "Mr. Ollivander, do you have the nail?", she was asking.

Hermione's screams once again penetrated into the cellar. Bellatrix was saying something, though they couldn't quite make out what she was saying.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!", Ron called out.

"You'll need to stay still", Luna told them as they felt her beginning to work the knots loose.

"I'm going to ask once more: where did you get this sword?", this time, they understood Bellatrix.

"We found it! We found it! PLEASE!", Hermione pleaded.

"Ron: stay still!", Luna ordered. "I can't see what I'm doing..."

"In my pocket", Ron replied. "The deluminator: they didn't take it", he explained. Luna found it right away. There was a click, and several spheres of light appeared. Unable to find their sources, they floated overhead flooding the cell with light.

"That's much better", Luna said, and soon had the ropes off.

Now that they could see, there was more than two prisoners here: "Dean", Harry sort of greeted, "afraid you..."

"It was a close call, _much_ too close", he needn't explicate further.

"You are lying you filthy little mudblood!", Bellatrix was accusing. "You were in my vault! Don't _lie_ to me!"

Another horrible scream.

"What else did you take? _Whatelsedidyoutake_? Tell me or I swear by Merlin I'll run you through!", Bella continued to accuse. "WHAT ESLE DID YOU TAKE? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"

Ron couldn't stand it. He looked all around the low ceiling, hoping to spot a trap door. he felt all along the walls, hoping for a secret panel.

"It's useless", Luna said. We tried everything. Mr. Ollivander's been here even longer, and we couldn't find any secret passages, couldn't come up with a plan for escape. I'm sorry", Luna apologized.

"How did you get into my vault? Did that filthy little goblin help you?", Bellatrix continued her frantic accusations.

"We never saw him before tonight", Hermione sobbed. "I've never been inside your vault... It isn't the real sword. it's a replica, a copy...".

"A copy!", Bella shrieked. "A _likely_ story..."

"One way to find out", Lucius told her. "The goblin should recognize the real one from any copy... Draco, bring him up here".

Harry instantly was at the goblin's side: "You have to tell them the sword is a copy. It's fake. You must, a lot of lives depend on making them believe it's a fake...". They could hear Draco coming.

"Stand back, line up against the far wall", Draco ordered. "Try to escape, and you're dead", he threatened. Ron clicked off the lights just before the door opened. Draco entered, wand out, and ready for trouble.

"C'mon Griphook, your presence is requested upstairs", he said as he roughly pulled the goblin to his feet. He backed out, never taking his eyes off the rest of the prisoners lined up against the far wall.

The slamming of the heavy door masked the crack. Ron clicked the deluminator to see what just happened.

"DOB...", his exclamation cut short by Harry's fist to his ribs. Ron looked horrified at the mistake he almost made. Fortunately, they heard Draco's footsteps receding, then overhead. He hadn't noticed.

"Harry Potter, Dobby has come to rescue you".

"How did you know..."

"Dor... Dor... your digimon told me where to find you", Dobby answered.

"Dorugamon"

"Yes, that's it".

"Dobby, can you leave here?"

"Yes", he replied with a nod.

"Can you take anyone with you?"

Dobby nodded again.

"Great. I need you to take Luna, Mr. Ollivander, and Dean away. Take them to..."

"Shell Cottage", Ron suggested. "Bill's and Fleur's place. Right outside Tinsworth".

"Can you do that?", Harry asked.

"Of course", Dobby replied.

"Great. Drop them off with Bill and Fleur and come right back".

"We want to help!", Luna complained.

"Not leaving without you", Dean agreed.

"Go, all of you. We'll join you ASAP", Harry insisted. "Ron and I will get Hermione and be ready to go when Dobby returns for us".

"What was that?", they heard Lucius say. Unfortunately, Dobby's departure was not as unnoticed as his arrival. "Draco, go check it out... On the other hand, send Wormtail..."

They heard feet above, then silence, then more feet coming their way.

"We'll have to jump him", Harry said. "By the door", he ordered. As Ron was reaching for his deluminator: "Leave the lights on. He won't be expecting that".

"Stand back!", they heard Wormtail order. They said nothing. Wormtail waited for an answer that never came. It worked: Wormtail was confused as he looked into a cellar room, apparently empty, blazing with light. Harry and Ron made their move, pulling the small man into the room, Harry's hand clamped firmly over his mouth. Ron grabbed his wand hand so he couldn't aim. Several small sparks flew from the tip.

"Everything alright down there?", they heard Lucius call down.

"Everything's OK", Ron called back, doing a passable impression of Wormtail's voice. "No problems".

The silver prosthetic hand wrapped around Harry's throat. "You owe me, Wormtail, I saved your life". The grip slackened, and Harry pulled himself free. The little rat-like man seemed as surprised as Harry. He wasn't sure that Pettigrew had a better nature to which to appeal. He was the one who betrayed James' and Lily's trust, faked his own death for which he framed Sirius, and hid in the form of Ron's pet rat. He might have continued to get away with it had his presence not been detected by the very Marauder's Map he'd helped to create.

It was Harry who convinced Sirius and Remus not to kill him as soon as he'd been discovered in the Shrieking Shack. It was also the occasion when Harry had attacked Professor Snape, and got away with assaulting a professor with no consequences. Harry wanted Wormtail alive long enough to get Sirius off the hook for the murder Wormtail committed, and for betraying the Potters.

"I'll take that", Ron said as he snatched Wormtail's wand from his hand.

Then they watched in horror as the silver hand attacked its owner. Harry tried to hold it back, but could not overpower the hand. It clamped so tight that Wormtail could not utter a sound.

"Relashio!", Ron tried the releasing spell, but it had no effect.

They could do nothing but watch as the hapless Wormtail dropped to his knees, face turning purple. He flopped onto his side, thrashed a bit. There came a foul odor. Wormtail messed himself as he died. He lay there, still. He paid the price for a moment's worth of compassion. Voldemort had disposed of the servant of whom he thought the least. Even though it was Wormtail who'd performed the spell that brought Voldemort back. The useful idiot was useful no more. Isn't that what Remus Lupin said?

Ron and Harry made their way back upstairs. The door to the drawing room was ajar. Griphook was examining the sword as Bella stood over him, looking down.

"Well?", she asked impatiently. "Is it the true sword?"

Harry held his breath. Did the goblin understand? Would he do it, just on the say-so of someone he'd never met until a few minutes ago? Griphook looked up, his inspection complete.

"It is a replica. A very good one to be sure, but a replica nonetheless"

"Are you sure? Are you _quite_ sure?", she asked.

"I know the difference between goblinwork and wizardwork. As I said, it is an excellent reproduction, but definitely wizardwork", Griphook lied.

"Good", she said. All tension draining from her face. She waved her wand, and slashed the goblin's face for no good reason. He dropped with a yell at her feet, and she casually kicked him aside as though he were nothing. "And now", she said with an air of triumph, "we call the Dark Lord". She touched the Dark Mark.

Harry's scar felt like it split his head open. His true surroundings evaporated as he became Voldemort. He was in a sparse cell. Before him lay the figure of a skeletal man, deep into a very old age. The old man was laughing toothlessly; he was enraged at the interruption. He had warned them, nothing but Potter, for no other reason.

"Kill me then", the old man laughed. "You can not win! You will not win! The wand will _never_ be yours!", Grindelwald taunted.

Voldemort's temper reached its breaking point. Green light flashed. The frail old man was lifted off his hard bed, fell back dead. Voldemort turned to the single window, his wrath barely under his control. If they were mistaken this time, they would pay for their interruption...

"We don't need Miss Mudblood anymore", Bella was saying to the remaining Snatcher. "You can have her to do with as you please".

He approached Hermione, his tongue literally hanging out the side of his mouth, saliva running down his chin.

"NOOOOOOO!", Ron burst into the room. As Bella was turning to face him, wand out:

"Expelliarmus!", he fired with Wormtail's wand. Bellatrix's went flying, and Harry caught it.

"Stupefy!", he attacked Lucius who dropped in front of the mantle.

Draco, Narcissa and the Snatcher had their wands out. Harry dived to the floor, rolled behind a sofa for cover, and to get a better shot.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Harry peered from around the sofa. Bellatrix was supporting Hermione, who seemed to have passed out. Bellatrix was holding that silver handled knife to her throat.

"Drop your wands", she demanded. "Drop them, otherwise we'll see just how filthy her blood really is".

Ron stood rigid, still clutching Wormtail's wand. Harry slowly stood.

"I SAID 'DROPEM'!", she screeched. She pressed the blade closer. Little beads of blood appeared.

"OK", Harry said, dropping the wand. "We give up".

Ron tossed his away. They raised their hands to shoulder height.

"Good!", Bella crowed. "Pick them up, Draco", she ordered. Draco picked up the wands. "The Dark Lord approaches. Your death awaits, Harry Potter"

Harry knew that already: his scar burned with the pain of it. Voldemort was flying over a dark and stormy sea somewhere he couldn't identify. No idea how far away, how soon until he was within apparition range. Maybe minutes, maybe seconds.

"Now, Cissy, I think we should tie these little heroes up again, while our guest services Miss Mudblood. I'm sure the Dark Lord won't mind". She turned to the Snatcher: "I don't see him begrudging you the girl after all you did here tonight".

There was a faint tinkling. It seemed to be coming from above. They looked up just in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble, then fall. Bellatrix was right beneath it. With a scream, she threw herself clear, and at the same time, threw Hermione clear as well. The heavy chandelier crashed as crystals flew everywhere. Draco doubled over, clutching at his bloody face where he'd been cut by flying crystal. An inch closer to his left, and he would have lost an eye. Harry took his chance, wrestling the wands from Draco's hands.

"Stupefy!", Harry fired all three at once at the Snatcher. He was lifted almost to the ceiling before dropping to the floor. He wouldn't be getting up anytime soon after taking three hits simultaneously. Narcissa grabbed Draco to pull him out of harm's way. However, something stopped her.

"Dobby!", they heard Narcissa call out in surprise.

Even Bellatrix looked around, surprised at the sight of the house elf inviting himself into the room. He wagged a finger at his former mistress: "You must not harm Harry Potter", he admonished.

"Kill him, Cissy!", Bellatrix ordered.

There was another sharp crack, and Narcissa's wand flew across the room.

"You filthy little monkey!", Bellatrix screamed at him. "How _dare_ you take a witch's wand; how _dare_ you defy your masters!"

"Dobby has no master. Dobby is here to save Harry and his friends, not to serve you". The thought crossed Harry's mind that the diminutive elf had _cojones_ as big as quaffles, made of pure titanium, as his tone was one of calm unconcern.

The pain in the scar intensified. He knew they had - maybe - a minute. "Ron, catch and GO!", he ordered as he threw a wand to Ron. Ron disapparated immediately. Harry picked up the semi-conscious goblin from the floor, still clinging to the sword. With his free hand, he grabbed one of Dobby's hands and disapparated. As he did so, Bellatrix screamed in rage as she threw her knife at the spot where they were dematerializing.

"Bill and Fleur's... Shell Cottage... Bill and Fleur's", Harry concentrated, hoping this was good enough. He thought he felt Dobby's hand jerk. Perhaps he knew better? He returned the hand squeeze to let him know he was in charge.

Harry felt solid ground beneath his feet, smelled salty sea air. He let go of Dobby's hand, and lowered Griphook to the ground. "You OK?", he asked. Griphook lay there, whimpering, not yet conscious enough to form coherent words. He looked around, there was a cottage further up the beach. It looked like people were moving up there.

"Dobby, is this Shell Cottage?", Harry asked. He received no answer. "Have we come to the right place?" Again, no answer. He looked around. Dobby stood off a few feet.

"DOBBY!", Harry called out. The elf was a bit unsteady on his feet. Together, they looked down at the silver hilt of the knife sticking out of his chest.

"Dobby... No!... Help!", Harry called out to the cottage. He didn't care: Shell Cottage, or random weekend vacation cottage, wizards or muggles - he didn't care. "HELP!"

Dobby reached out with thin arms. Harry caught him as he fell. He laid the stricken elf on the soft grass.

"Dobby: don't die. Please don't die. Help is on the way...", he reassured.

Dobby looked up at him: "Such a beautiful place...", he coughed feebly.

"Shhhhh... lie still, don't talk", Harry said.

"...Harry... Potter": These were Dobby's final words.

"Dobby?", Harry asked, even though he knew it was all over. He'd seen the life leave his eyes. He had a flashback: to the tallest tower at Hogwart's, beneath which lay the broken body of Albus Dumbledore. Though, he knelt before a small body, brutally violated by Bellatrix's silver dagger.

He had come to the right place after all. Bill and Fleur were arriving, along with Luna. They saw right away that they were too late.

"I want to do it properly. Not with magic", Harry said. "Have you got a spade?", he asked.

"Shouldn't we close his eyes?", Luna said.


	27. The Great Gringott's Heist

**27) The Great Gringott's Heist**

_Hogwart's_

Voldemort came at night, when it was least likely he'd be seen. This mission was so important, there was no leaving it to his Death Eaters. He wouldn't trust them anyway, should any of them know what it was he was after.

He approached the mausoleum by Black Lake. A levitation charm lifted the heavy lid, revealing Albus Dumbledore reposing within. He looked more like he was in a light sleep, no evidence he'd fallen from the Astronomy Tower.

"I'll take that", Voldemort told him as he slipped Dumbledore's wand from his fingers. "Thank you for keeping it safe for me", he added sarcastically.

"Good night, you old fool", he said as he levitated the lid back in place.

He raised the Elder Wand above his head, sending a bolt of lightening skyward in triumph.

Grindelwald had proved most helpful in identifying the whereabouts of the Elder Wand; Grindelwald had been most wrong: the wand was his.

_Shell Cottage_

"The garden", Bill suggested. "It may not look like much now, but it'll be lovely, later in the spring".

"Thanks for that", Harry said.

Harry chose the grave site in the back of the garden, next to the hedge that marked the property line. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could manage. Harry laid out the plot, then began digging with the spade Bill just happened to have. Magic would have been much easier, but Dobby deserved better than a simple disposal. Better than the magical burial of the acromantula, Aragon (though the natural order of things was for the body to have been consumed by Aragon's children). At least Harry was there for Hagrid. Ron didn't want to go because of his fear of all spiders, both the magical and non-magical variety. Hermione didn't go either as she'd never met Aragon, and Ron told her: "Being dead improved him a great deal". So it was Harry, Professor Slughorn (who wanted to steal some acromantula venom, as it brings in a hefty profit) and Hagrid who attended the funeral.

After acquiring the venom he came for, Slughorn gave a very nice eulogy. He and Hagrid spent the rest of that evening, drinking Firewhiskey. It was then that Harry finally convinced Slughorn to give him the memory of what he already knew: it was Slughorn, after a meeting of what would become the "Slug Club", who told Tom Riddle all about horcruxes.

As he worked through the night, he came to several conclusions. The Elder Wand was definitely out there, and Voldemort was actively seeking it. Didn't matter if Hermione didn't believe that the Deathly Hallows existed. He already had one in his possession. The Cloak matched Xeno's description, it was an heirloom of the Potter's, an old, pureblood wizarding family likely to acquire such antiques. Even if he didn't know how it passed from the Peverell's to the Potter's, but he didn't have to know.

The black stone in Marvolo Gaunt's ring: did Dumbledore recognize it as the Resurrection Stone? If it was, then why did Voldemort turn it into a horcrux? Harry reasoned he didn't know. If he did, then he didn't care. Voldemort was afraid of death, it was a life long obsession of his. Besides, there was no one he'd want to resurrect anyway. There was also that Peverell connection: they were the forerunners of the Gaunts. Was that why he so carelessly put that ring on his finger?

Now he knew where one of the horcruxes was located: Gringott's, the Lestrange family vault. What else could have provoked such panic on the part of Bellatrix? Didn't she likewise send Gryffindor's "Sword" to that very vault for safe-keeping? Hadn't she bragged that she was Voldemort's most trusted servants that day at the Ministry? The only question remaining: was it Hufflepuff's Cup? Was it something to do with Rowena Ravenclaw? He'd seen how Tom Riddle, the procurer of antiques, had lusted after that cup when Smith had let him see it.

Then there was Dumbledore. The man he had trusted above all others, and to whom he'd given unconditional loyalty. Yes, it was a disappointment to learn of his feet of clay, the involvement with the dark wizard Grendelwald. Hadn't a lot of wizards flirted with the Dark Arts? How about Professor Snape? Hadn't he been almost completely seduced by the Dark Arts, even going so far as to take Voldemort's Dark Mark? Hadn't _he_ changed? If Death Eater Severus Snape could turn against the Dark Arts, then so too could Albus Dumbledore? His concern for Hogwart's students: how could he possibly fake that for all those years he'd known the former Headmaster? If he was after power, then why did he turn down repeatedly chances to become the Minister of Magic? His insistence that Hogwart's was his one and only priority disappointed many. How could he fake the concern he'd shown for the half-bloods and muggle-born, like his good friend Hermione?

How about the non-human magicals? Didn't Dumbledore speak fluent Mermish? Didn't the merpeople of Black Lake attend the funeral? Didn't the centaurs, despite their well known feelings for humans, honour the Professor with an arrow salute: the highest accolade and deepest sign of respect of centaur culture?

How could he fake that for so long, and fool so many so completely? Even if Skeeter was right about a lot of things, and even if Dumbledore knew how to play political games with the best of them, it wasn't possible he got away with it for so long.

Even if he had made mistakes where Harry was concerned, he knew he must trust the Professor, and follow this long and winding road that had been laid out before him to its destination. It was the right thing to do, and it was the only way left open to him to truly – and finally – have a life he could call his own. Wasn't that the whole point of the prophecy Voldemort was so eager to steal from the Hall of Prophecies?

Bill and Fleur, Luna and Dean and Ron, joined him to finish the grave. Harry wrapped Dobby in his Hogwart's robe with the House Gryffindor crest, and laid the house elf to rest. He picked a white, flat stone from the garden, and carved (though he wished Hermione was recovered enough to do this for him, as she'd've done a better job) "Here lies Dobby – a free elf".

Harry still looked over the grave and felt inadequate. He remembered the funeral of the Professor, attended by every imaginable dignitary the wizarding world had to offer. He remembered the magnificent marble mausoleum by the shores of Black Lake. Dobby deserved as much. More than this simple grave in the corner of a garden.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Griphook, can I ask a favour of you?", Harry approached the goblin whom he rescued from the Malfoy's. He, at least, had that in his favour.

"I wouldn't entertain the notion from any wand-carrier other than you. I saw how you buried your house elf friend..."

"Dobby was his name", Harry interrupted.

"I never thought I would see any wand-carrier treat with such respect a 'lesser' (finger quotes) being", Harry knew what he meant: goblins were numbered amoung the lesser beings. "What is it that you wanted to ask?"

"I need to get inside one of the vaults at Gringott's: the Lestrange family vault".

"That is quite impossible".

"It's important. There's an item in that vault we need to find and destroy. Otherwise, there will be no stopping Hewhomustnotbenamed".

"That's wand-carrier business, what does that have to so with us?"

"As bad as you think wand-carriers are, do you expect that Youknowwho will give goblins a better deal?"

"I expect very little from wand-carriers. You have, once again, gone back on your word and taken Gringott's from our control..."

"That was Youknowwho who did that after he took over the Ministry. He, and he alone, broke the agreement".

"It is just one item you want from the vault? You're asking me to believe you aren't interested in plundering the vault's treasure?"

"That's all we need: one item".

"What item?"

"Now that, I don't know", Harry admitted. "I know it's there, and I shall recognize it when I see it".

"Hmmmm...", Griphook needed to think this over, as it went against everything he believed of wand-carriers. It was incomprehensible that anyone would want to break into a vault bursting with gold and other valuables and not empty it. "I shall consider your proposal", Griphook promised. "We'll talk later".

"Sorry about Dobby. Sorry I couldn't help", Hermione apologized.

"It's more important that you recover", Harry explained, "after what Bellatrix put you through".

"All that over a sword?"

"She was in a panic. The very thought that we were in her vault scared the shit out of her. It's pretty obvious: Bellatrix just told us where one of his horcruxes is located. We have to get into that vault".

"But how? There hasn't been a break-in in over ten years, and that was a vacant vault. If one's in there..."

"Fortunately, we have Griphook. He used to be one of Gringott's higher-ups. If there's a way, he could tell us, help us".

"Do you think he would? Why?"

"Well, we did save his life, and he's thinking about it. I mentioned the possibility. He hasn't said 'yes', but he hasn't said 'no' either".

"Even if we do get in, what would we be looking for? How will we find it?"

"I suppose it's something related to Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. He was very interested in Hufflepuff's Cup, and apparently stole it from Hephzibah Smith. Dumbledore showed me that in the pensieve – a memory he collected from Hokey, Smith's house elf".

"If it's not? We could be taking a helluva risk for nothing. No guarantees it won't be hidden in there, and how long will we have to look? Especially now, since she suspects".

"I just hope Griphook was convincing enough that she doesn't do that".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"I have considered your proposal, Harry Potter", Griphook told him three days later. "I will help you get into the Lestrange vault, but there is something I want in return".

Griphook had indeed thought it over. He recalled the outrage when Pius Thicknesse informed the goblins that Gringott's was now under Ministry – and by extension – wizard control. This was an outrage in that the charter of the bank specified that it would be goblin run and goblin owned in perpetuity. This was part of the peace treaty that ended the Goblin Wars, and kept the peace for three centuries. The goblins had held up their end of the agreement.

Griphook resigned, rather than accept he would now be answering to Thicknesse's lackeys. This act of defiance made him a fugitive, which is how he came to be traveling and hiding out with Ted Tonks and his party.

The idea of a break-in now that Gringott's was under wizarding control appealed to him. The bank had a sterling reputation for security so long as it was goblin-run. It would serve them right if now that reputation was destroyed, the Ministry's incompetence made clear.

"That would be?"

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor".

That was the absolute last thing Harry wanted to hear.

"Isn't there something, anything, else? We need the Sword if we are to defeat Youknowwho once and for all. How about if we look the other way after we get into the vault. You could help yourself..."

"_Do think I am a thief_?! It's one thing to prove that wizarding management is less competent than goblin management... Or is it that you think_ all_ goblins lack _any_ sense of integrity?"

"I'm sorry if I have given offense. It wasn't deliberate. I apologize"

"It's the Sword or nothing", Griphook insisted.

The goblin banker gave Harry a dilemma: he could keep the Sword, and the horcrux would be safe. If he acquired the horcrux, but lost the Sword, he wouldn't be able to destroy it. He decided to pull a "goblin" on the goblin: "Once we have what we're after, we will leave the vault's contents undisturbed, and we'll turn the Sword over to you".

"Agreed", Griphook said, to Harry's great relief. He would turn the Sword over to Griphook, but he didn't say when that would be. That way, he could hang onto the Sword until the horcruxes were gone, and Griphook could have the Sword for goblin-kind a little later than he was expecting. "I hope they haven't changed the security protocols, but I doubt it. Goblins wouldn't co-operate by volunteering any information that would help wand-carriers run the bank that rightfully belongs to us".

"Once Youknowwho is defeated once and for all, you get your bank back. If he isn't, then it makes no difference".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"I don't know how much time you will have, assuming that we can even get into the Lestrange family vault. It's one of the older vaults, deep under Gringott's, and heavily protected", Griphook was explaining.

"The defenses deep underground include the 'Thief's Downfall' an underground waterfall that neutralizes magic used to conceal one's identity, including the Disillusionment Charm and even Polyjuice. Assuming you get past that, then you need to get by the guard dragon. This will require the co-operation of an authorized Gringott's specialist in handling dragons.

"As for the vaults themselves, no one is permitted to even so much as touch the door. Those who do, are pulled inside. Maybe, once a decade, the vaults are inspected for trapped intruders, or what's left of them. We will need the co-operation of a certified teller to open the vault door.

"You can be certain that the unauthorized intrusion _will_ be detected. How you get out, now that I can not say. I will be of no help there, as I have left the employment of Gringott's, and they all know it. My resignation wasn't exactly an amicable separation".

"I wasn't expecting easy", Ron complained, "but this is sounding more and more like a fool's errand. How do we get out with whatever we came for, and how will we know?"

"We'll just have to think of something", Harry answered. "If we don't get it, then we don't defeat Youknowwho, and it won't make much difference. We're dead either way, so we have no choice: we _must _succeed".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

_Ottery St. Catchpole: Aunt Muriel's_

"That's rather disappointing", Remus was commenting to Jadin.

The replies were coming in, most accusing Jadin of spamming. Some were downright rude.

"What do you expect?", Jadin replied, "it's an unbelievable story. We did get some positive replies. You might want to alert other members of the Order, in case we'll be needing their help".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

_London: Diagon Alley_

Thanks to Bellatrix's leaving stray hairs on Hermione's clothes from the interrogation, she was totally transformed, and recognized and accepted as Bellatrix Lestrange, and had been greeted repeatedly as "Madam Lestrange".

It was a horrible sight: Diagon Alley was now filled with muggle-born magi, left wandless, begging for spare Newts to keep themselves and their families fed. Given how Voldemort felt about muggle-born magi, they weren't getting very many contributions.

"Please, Madam Lestrange, help me", one pleaded. A bloody bandage around his head. "Where has he taken my children? Ask him to return my children".

"I can't help you", Hermione told him.

"Damn you!", he threw himself at Hermione. Ron stunned him. Others like him wandered the streets, wraith-like. They were not prepared for any useful muggle employment, not knowing what to do now that any sort of employment in wizarding businesses was out of the question, helpless without their wands.

Old familiar store fronts were boarded up, and new shops totally dedicated to the Dark Arts were open for business. Knockturn Alley was no longer the preserve of shops dealing in dubious and dangerous dark artifacts.

Those ugly Ministry posters were everywhere, this time, displaying the image of "Undesirable Number One" – Harry Potter. Others showed pictures of Harry's known associates – all with admonishments of what would happen to anyone who'd seen them and failed to report the sighting.

Harry and Griphook were following closely, concealed beneath Harry's cloak. Ron was disguised as Dragomir Despard an overseas visitor and guest of Lestrange. As they approached the doors leading into Gringott's, the first order of business was getting past the guards standing by the main entrance. It was the duty of these guards to scan all visitors for identity concealing charms and enchantments with Probity Probes that verified every visitor was who he claimed to be. Harry silently cast the Imperious to make then believe they'd done the scan with nothing out of the ordinary.

"Wand?", the head Teller, Bogrod, asked to establish the identity of the client. "It's a necessary formality", he apologized.

"It's just that... you see... I had to replace my old wand..." He was getting suspicious, and Harry took care of it with another Imperious. Undoubtedly by now, the bank had been alerted that Lestrange had lost her wand. If it showed up here, the "Bellatrix" presenting her wand could only be an imposter.

"Madam Lestrange, so it's so nice to see you", Bogrod greeted. Harry made him believe his identity check had passed flawlessly.

"I'm sure it is. Now, if I can get on with my business. I don't have all day". Hermione did her best impression of the arrogant mannerisms of the real Bella Lestrange.

"Of course", Bogrod replied, "I shall escort you personally"

He turned and called out: "Bring the Clankers". Hermione wondered what that was. The Clankers were bells suspended from chains.

"This way", he invited "Madam Lestrange" behind the counter. Through the door leading to the underground vaults, Harry Imperioused the guard standing just inside before getting into the overhead monorail. This guard decided he needed some shut-eye despite being on duty. The Lestrange family vault was one of the larger vaults deep underground used by the oldest and wealthiest families. The monorail moved swiftly through a winding passageway.

The "Thief's Downfall" was coming up fast, and Harry readied himself. As they passed through it, it worked as Griphook said: washing away Hermione's Polyjuice impersonation and Ron's disguise. It also came to a sudden halt, spilling out all passengers. Harry quickly got Bogrod under another Imperious, but there was little doubt but that some sort of security alert went out. There was no longer any need for Harry and Griphook to hide.

The next ordeal was the guard dragon. This was obviously an old dragon, as the eyes were thick with cataracts. Long years confined and chained in the dark, probably having not seen sunlight for decades, left the dragon's skin pink, not red. He fled from the sound of the Clankers, and Hermione looked on with revulsion as she realized why. The dragon's face was covered with old scars from red hot irons. He feared the sound, associating it with the pain of this horrible mistreatment. Even from here, the dragon's lair reeked of dragon shit and stale piss. The only care given just that sufficient to keep him barely alive.

At the vault, Bogard placed his hand on the door, which vanished. Though large, the interior was very full. Piles of Galleons, valuable antiques and artworks made moving through the vault difficult.

"Do not touch anything", Griphook advised.

"Just what the hell are we looking for?", Ron asked.

One of the few things they recognized was the reproduction of Gryffindor's Sword that Snape had sent from Hogwart's. Ron discovered what Griphook meant as he brushed against a stack of Galleons that began reproducing themselves at a geometric rate: a Geminio Curse. This particular curse caused anything touched by unrecognized hands to reproduce worthless copies of itself, the idea being that the original would be lost amidst a sea of copies.

That wasn't the worst part: there was also a Flagrante Curse that caused these copies to grow uncomfortably hot, scorching to the touch.

"Ron!", Hermione reprimanded. Looking for the hidden needle in the haystack just got a lot more difficult.

"It's unavoidable", Harry realized. The growing pile of fake Galleons forced them into other objects, which also began reproducing, filling the vault.

Harry got lucky this time: Hufflepuff's Cup, in plain sight, up front, on a high shelf. Bellatrix kept the Cup in plain sight so's she could look worshipfully upon the prised possession the Dark Lord entrusted to her care every time she visited this vault, a reminder that the Dark Lord considered her his most worthy and trusted follower.

"There!", Harry pointed.

"Just don't touch it", Ron reminded. "How do we..."

"Levicorpus!", Hermione cast the prank spell that suspended Harry by one ankle. Harry, too, brushed up against an antique suit of armour that began growing in number. The inside of the vault was becoming uncomfortably hot, because of the proliferation of Flagrante cursed reproductions.

It also put the Cup within reach, as Harry used the real Sword to hook it by one of its handles. He was pleased to see that it didn't begin reproducing. It was only a human touch that activated the curse.

"Liberacorpus!_", _reversed the spell, dropping Harry into the rapidly growing pile as Ron and Hermione struggled to keep Bogrod's head above the growing pile of burning hot junk. The Sword and Cup went flying. Harry caught the Cup, as the worthless copies squirted from between his fingers burning his hand.

Griphook caught the Sword, and ran off calling out that thieves had broken into the vault. Security was arriving: an army of goblins and Death Eaters. Harry, Ron and Hermione spilled out of the vault, surfing a wave of Geminio-produced junk.

"Stupify!", they fired stunners to slow them down. They had another problem: the guard dragon. All the excitement has him worked up to the point where the Clankers wouldn't do any good, even if Griphook had left them behind.

"Get behind him!", Hermione called out, as the dragon began exhaling fire with no regard to where he was aiming. This took out a squardon of security, and unfortunately Bogrod as he was still in a state of confusion due to the Imperious. "Up! Go! Go! Go!", she urged Harry and Ron to climb onto his back.

"Relashio!", she freed the fetters that bound the dragon. The dragon, sensing freedom, took off, following the scent of fresh air. They dodged the daggers the goblins threw at them.

The passage grew narrower, but they had an answer to that problem: "Defodio!", they cast the charm that blasted away the narrowing passage, widening it enough for the dragon to keep flying.

The dragon burst through the door to the vaults, causing a mass panic and a rush for the exits. The dragon, still following the scent of fresh air, ran across the floor and out into Diagon Alley. He spread his wings, and took flight for the first time in nearly a lifetime. Fortunately, he either didn't realize he was carrying passengers, or he didn't care.

It looked like they were headed north, away from the city. The dragon flew too fast and too high for them to do anything but hold on tight. They dreaded the appearance of the North Atlantic below. For an older dragon, this one had an unexpected stamina and flew far and with strength.

The Sun was going down, as they flew over country side dotted with many small lakes and ponds. The dragon was descending, and was looking for somewhere to land.

"Everyone off!", Harry called out as they flew over a small lake. Though the altitude was uncomfortably high, the depth of the lake unknown, it was advisable to get off now, rather than waiting for him to land, discover he wasn't alone, and incinerate them. The lake wasn't so shallow they risked breaking a leg hitting bottom.

As they reached the shore, they were pleased to see the dragon across the lake helping himself to a long drink.

"Think he'll be alright?", Hermione asked.

"You're getting as bad as your boyfriend", Ron commented. "Of course he'll be alright, he's a _dragon!_ He can take care of himself. It's _us_ you should be worrying about".

"How do you mean?", she asked.

"Hell, I dunnow", Ron replied sarcastically. "We break into an impenetrable bank, rob one of its highest security vaults, just barely avoid getting caught, and take a wild flight on the back of a dragon to somewhere we don't know where we are. Nope, no problems there".

It was the first good laugh they had in a long time. The first order of business was treating the burns with dittney.

Hermione pointed out another problem: "Youknowwho will know we know about the horcruxes".

"Maybe Gringott's will cover it up?", Ron hoped. "It's not like this reflects well on them does it? The goblins pride themselves on security, don't they?"

"I don't see how", Hermione objected, "everyone in the bank, on the street, saw that dragon escape. How do you cover up something like that?"

"We have the Cup", Harry said as he placed the small gold cup on the sand as they sat around, admiring their hard won prise. The twilight had arrived, and the dragon was finished drinking. They were relieved to see him take off, back on his original course.

"No Sword, though", Ron pointed out, "how do we get rid of it?"

"Think of something...", Harry started. He was distracted by another vision...

He stood before an assembly of wizards. Between them, on his knees, was a small figure.

"Would you mind telling us again, just so we are clear", Lord Voldemort was saying in a forced calm that concealed the rage within. He was nearly at the tipping point.

"Impostors... they penetrated Gringott's..."

"Imposters? Impostors, you say? 'If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours, yada, yada, yada'", Voldemort quoted the lines of the poetic warning to potential thieves engraved on the inner doors to Gringott's lobby.

_Welcome__, __visitor__, but take heed_  
><em>Of what awaits the sin of greed<em>  
><em>For those who take, but do not earn,<em>  
><em>Must pay most dearly in their turn.<em>  
><em>So if you seek beneath our floors<em>  
><em>A treasure that was never yours,<em>  
><em>Thief, you have been warned, beware<em>  
><em>Of <em>_the consequences __a__waiting you__ there._

"Forgive me if I'm operating under a mistaken assumption, but does not Gringott's _pride_ itself on its security?"

"Y-y-y-es, we do... However..."

"And just who was it who defeated your famous security? Who was it who pulled off the first violation of a high security vault in a decade, and got away with it?"

"It was Harry Potter and three accomplices..."

"Potter. Potter... again! He tasks me, he does. What did they remove from the vault?"

"It was a s-s-s-mall g-g-gold cup. Of all they could..."

"Be silent!", Voldemort ordered. "This just _smells_ of an inside job. Potter and his associates could never have pulled this off, and gotten away, unless he had considerable help from the inside. Tell me, who are these traitors?"

"I d-d-d-on't know... I _beg_ you... I would tell if I knew..."

"Oh I have no doubts about that, I can assure you. You have failed me; you have failed to protect that which I entrusted to you to keep safe and secure". Voldemort twiddled the Elder Wand he stole from the tomb of Albus Dumbledore with his long fingers.

"No... Please..."

"Avada Kadavra!", the green light lit up the room. The goblin rolled over, dead.

The wizards stampeded for the door. Lucius and Bellatrix threw others aside as they forced their way out.

"Avada Kadavra! Avada Kadavra! Avada Kadavra!", the light flashed at random, striking whomever was unlucky enough to still be in that room when the rage exploded. There was also method to the madness: Voldemort needed to eliminate anyone who knew about that gold cup, lest they figure out Voldemort's most closely guarded secret - a secret that the boy had somehow also figured out. He picked his way around the corpses he made, indifferent.

It had to be Dumbledore. Dumbledore - one of the greatest wizards of his time. A wizard who could have easily unlocked the secrets of immortality, but who had chosen the ignominy of death instead, the victim of a common assassin. Dumbledore, who was now striking from beyond the grave through the instrument of that annoying little boy: Harry Potter.

What else did Potter know? Did he know about the ring? It didn't seem likely, after all, he had taken lives to obscure his relationship with the Gaunt family, such that it was. Still, Dumbledore knew his middle name; he must have seen the ring since he wore it while attending Hogwart's. Yes, he would check on the ring first. The locket should be quite safe. Who knew about the secret cave he'd discovered during an orphanage sponsored outing? How could anyone get past its defenses and concealments? It was absurd to think the locket was in any jeopardy. So he would check the ring first, and move it to a safer location.

The diary had been destroyed, but he wasn't too concerned about that, as it was expendable. A necessity if he were to return to life. He had not felt its destruction, but he figured that was because he had no body at the time with which to feel. Certainly, he would have felt if the other horcruxes had been destroyed? Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard of all time, the one who killed Dumbledore and uncounted lesser men... How could he _not_ know if he had been violated and mutilated?

He decided to send word to Snape to increase the patrols in and around Hogwart's. Of course, he would never reveal his true reason for asking for tighter security. He had already made that mistake: trusting the Malfoy's. Their stupidity, carelessness, and incompetence had caused him to lose his prophecy, and now the Cup. No, Voldemort decided, if he wanted things done right, he would have to do them himself. As for Nagini, he would keep the serpent close from now on. No more sending her on special missions, no more taking chances with her life.

He stepped out into the courtyard and called Nagini in Parseltougue. She came slithering out from under the bushes and curled herself around his shoulders. He disapparated.

Harry lay on his back, the sun just beginning to slip below the horizon, the waves of the lake gently lapping at the shore. Ron and Hermione were looking on.

"He knows", Harry announced. "He knows we know about the horcruxes, but he doesn't know we destroyed one. He still thinks the locket is secure, but he's on his way to check, just to be sure. There _is_ one hidden at Hogwart's. I knew it! It's there!"

"Did you see where? What it was?", Hermione asked.

"I saw him find out about the cup. He was beside himself with rage. He's angry... and scared. He was worried about the rest of the horcruxes. He's on his way to check, the ring, the locket. He was more concerned with getting word to Professor Snape to tighten the security. He wasn't thinking about what it was or where he hid it".

"I dunnow", Ron shook his head. "Hogwart's is a pretty big place. Take _forever_ to find it, even if we knew what it was".

"At least we have it narrowed down. Before, all we could do was speculate", Harry said. "It's a start".

"Wait! _Wait!_", Hermione called out. "We can't just go. We need a plan, we need to take our time..."

"I'm afraid we don't have the luxury of time, Hermione", Harry explained. "He's already on his way. It won't be too much longer before he discovers the missing ring and locket"

"That still leaves us the problem of getting inside. Didn't you just say he told Snape..."

"Another reason we can't delay: that would buy Snape time to reinforce the security. It's not like he can put that off, delay it, for any length of time without giving himself away. I figure we'll go to Hogsmeade first. From there, the castle".

They disapparted under the cloak. They landed in the main drag of Hogsmeade. It was an achingly familiar sight. Indeed, Harry realized, he'd apparated to almost the very spot he'd returned with Dumbledore, after the visit to the cave. He could see light spilling onto the street from the windows of the Three Broomsticks. This being early evening, it wasn't as crowded as usual.

The night was split by a roaring scream. Voldemort's, just as he had cried out with rage every time Harry had given him the slip. Death Eaters came charging out the door of the Three Broomsticks, wands at the ready. Even before he heard them, Harry knew. A dozen of them, too many for them to hope to stun, to get the drop on. One held his wand up, waved it, and the screaming stopped. Another waved his wand: "Accio Cloak!", he called out. Harry grabbed the folds, but nothing happened. His cloak also resisted charms.

"So, Potter, not under wraps, I see. I know you're out there, so make it easy on yourself: come out!", the one who'd tried the charm announced. He waited. "Spread out. I know he's out here", he ordered.

Death Eaters poured into the street, as the three backed away, hoping that they remained fully concealed. Two Death Eaters missed them with but inches to spare, as they headed towards a familiar side street.

"Let's get the hell out of here", Hermione said. "Disapparate now".

That sounded like a good idea, but they discovered they couldn't leave. The Death Eaters had laid their charms well.

"Come out Potter!", they heard one call out. "We know you're out there, and we will find you".

"They were ready for us", Harry stated the obvious.

"What about the Dementors?", another Death Eater asked.

"The Dark Lord said not to kill him", another complained.

"The Dementors won't kill him, and the Dark Lord said nothing about his soul. He wants his life and he'll be a good deal easier to kill after he's been Kissed".

They were coming to a consensus that the suggestion made a good deal of sense. This was not good: repelling Dementors meant casting a patronus which would give them away. No good options: the Kiss, or capture.

The cold was becoming obvious even before the Dementors appeared.

"Expecto patronum!", Harry sent his stag to chase them away. Kiss or no Kiss, he was probably going to die, so better to leave this world with his soul intact.

"A patronus!", one Death Eaters called out. "It's them! This way!"

"Potter! Get in here now!", someone ordered.

They weren't going to argue with that. They passed a tall figure: "Stay under that cloak. Get upstairs and wait", he ordered, as he headed out the door.

Harry recognized where he was: the Hog's Head - the sleaziest pub in Hogsmeade. They headed behind the bar, their feet crunching softly the saw dust covering the barroom floor. Up a rickety flight of stairs to the barkeep's living quarters. This led to a sitting room with a thread bare carpet, a small fireplace above which hung a portrait of a young blond girl with an expression of a vacant sort of sweetness.

From an adjoining room came a familiar figure: "I thought I sensed familiar data".

"Dorugamon, keep quiet", Hermione ordered.

They looked out the window. There was an argument taking place between Death Eaters and the barkeep.

"...send Dementors down my street and I _damn_ sure will send a patronus right back at 'em. I won't have them on my street. You know that!"

"Are you saying you cast the patronus? We saw a stag..."

"It's a goat", Aberforth countered. "Can't you tell the difference between a goat and a stag?", he asked, incredulous.

"It had horns..."

"So do goats. You're all city slickers, never seen a goat before, or a stag for that matter, have you?"

"The curfew has been broken..."

"I apologize for that. I was letting the cat out..."

"You set off the Caterwauling Charm?"

"Like I said, my cat..."

"There are regulations..."

"_To hell with your regulations!_ My old cat and his weak bladder, I won't have him pissing all over my floor as he can't wait till sunup. If you want to cart me off to Azkaban for sticking my nose out my own front door, be my guest. But when my pub's closed down, where will you sell your muggle drugs, poisons, illegal potions, and the little muggle boys and girls you kidnap? What becomes of your sidelines then?"

"Are you threatening..."

"Of course I'm not. I know how to keep my mouth shut and when to look the other way. That's why you come here in the first place. I see no reason for that to change".

"Alright, alright. But if you break the curfew again, we won't be so sympathetic. C'mon, let's go. He's not here". The Death Eaters headed back towards High Street, and Hermione sighed with relief. She slipped out from under the cloak, and into a wobbly chair. Harry drew the curtains shut so that no gap remained before taking the cloak off. They could hear the barkeep closing and bolting the door downstairs. He entered the room. Never before had Harry realized just how closely Aberforth resembled his older brother, Albus. Same blue eyes, same gray beard, same tall stature. The way both moved in a manner suggesting much younger men.

"You damn fool kids!", he said gruffly. "What the _hell_ were you thinking: coming here? _Here!_ Of all places!"

"Thank you", Harry said. "You saved our lives; we can't thank you enough. For sending Dobby, and bringing us in".

Aberforth looked around. "Where's Dobby? I figured you'd be bringing him along".

"He's dead. Bellatrix Lestrange killed him".

"That's too bad. Kinda liked that elf", he said after a couple minutes, but without feeling, like it was the polite thing to say. He lit lamps with his wand.

"Hungry?", he asked to change the subject.

"Ravenous", Ron agreed.

He disappeared into a back room, returning with a tray with a large loaf of bread, cheese, and a pitcher of meade. He set the tray on a table before the fireplace. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dorugamon dug in. The only sounds heard were clinking silverware, glasses, and munching jaws.

"If you want to thank me", he announced after everyone had eaten their fill, "you'll get the hell out of Hogsmeade and never look back. Can't go tonight, as you've seen what happens if anyone sets foot on any street: Caterwauling Charm goes off. You'll have to wait until sunup, when the curfew lifts, then get under that cloak of yours. Head for the mountains, there, you'll be able to disapparate. Who knows? You might even meet up with Hagrid. He's been hiding up there".

"We're not going anywhere", Harry said. "We need to get into Hogwart's".

"Hellsamatter with you boy! You have a death wish? You get anywhere close to Hogwart's and you might as well march right into his headquarters..."

"We have to..."

"Have to? _HAVE TO_? There is no 'Have to'. The only thing you HAVE TO do is get away – from Hogsmeade, from England".

"You don't seem to understand. We need to get inside the castle. The Professor - your brother - wanted us..."

"My brother wanted a lot of things, and a lot of people ended up getting hurt over his grand schemes. People who would have been a lot better off if only he could have left well enough alone. You get away from this school, Harry, get away now. Leave the country, if you can. Also, take these two with you". He jerked a thumb towards where Ron and Hermione were sitting. "Now that they are known associates of yours, they won't be safe either. Forget you ever knew my brother; forget whatever scheme he's roped you into before it's too late. Where ever Albus is gone, he's beyond the reach of Youknowwho and all this mess. You don't owe him a god-damned thing".

"You don't understand..."

"_I_ don't understand? You think _I_ don't know my own brother? You think _you _understand him better than _I_ do?"

"I didn't mean it like that", Harry apologized. "It's just that he... left me a job..."

"Good job? Pleasant working conditions? Flexible schedule? Pays well? Some job that a kid wizard, even an extraordinarily talented one, could do with no chance of getting themselves in over their heads? That kind of job?", Aberforth replied sarcastically. Ron gave a strained laugh. Hermione just looked strained.

"It's... No... It's not easy. It's something I have to do".

"Let it go Harry. Forget it before you find yourself in too deep to get out. Before you follow Albus. Save yourselves".

"I can't!", Harry protested.

"Why the _bloody_ _hell_ not?!"

Harry decided to try a different approach: "Mr. Dumbledore, I don't understand. You're in the Order of the Phoenix..."

"Correction there, sonny, I _was_ in the Order of the Phoenix. There is no Order of the Phoenix. It's over: Youknowwho won. We lost. We put up a good fight, and were opposed at every turn. First Fudge, then Scrimgeour, the Ministry, the _Daily Prophet_ - no help from any of that crew when it actually would have made a difference. As far as the Ministry is concerned, they made their bed: let them lie in it. Anyone who thinks differently is just being a damn fool. I made a promise to my brother to look after you kids. That's what I'm doing: looking out for you by urging you to get out now while you still can".

"I have a job..."

"Give it to someone else!"

"I can't: it has to be me, Dumbledore said..."

"Dumbledore said: did he now? He explained everything? Was he completely honest with you?"

As much as Harry would have liked to say "Yes", as he would have just not too long ago, he couldn't quite bring the word to his lips. Aberforth continued:

"I know my brother. We, he and I, grew up with secrecy and lies. We learned it at an early age at our mother's knee. And Albus was a _natural_. Conning, deception, lying by omission, manipulation: he mastered it all. Whatever he's conned you into, you can be sure he wasn't on the level".

Aberforth shook his head as his eyes wandered to the portrait over the mantle. By now, it had occurred to Harry that this was the only picture in the room. No pictures of Albus, their mother not even of Aberforth.

"Mr. Dumbledore?", Hermione interjected timidly, "is that your sister?", she indicated the painting. "Ariana?"

"Yes", he replied. "Been reading Skeeter have you?", Hermione was turning red with embarrassment over having to admit that she had read _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_ - Rita Skeeter's hit piece.

"Elphias Doge told us about her not too long ago", Harry said to deflect attention from Hermione.

"That old berk", Aberforth snorted dismissively. "Thought my brother shit gumdrops and lollipops. So did a lot of other people as well - including you three from the look of it".

Harry had nothing to say to that. He had his doubts. He knew his Professor could be less than forthcoming, evasive, he'd admitted it. That night when Sirius died, he admitted that he hadn't told Harry everything about the psychic bond he and Voldemort shared, information that might have prevented Sirius' death. Even then, Harry sensed that his explanation that he'd wanted to spare Harry the pain of knowing the whole truth was just so much bullshit.

There was the evasiveness concerning his injury. Every time he asked, Dumbledore insisted it was nothing, even though it became obvious that the condition was getting worse, not better. How he had left Harry in the dark right up to the time he took that dive off the Astronomy Tower. There were many lapses of trust. Some excusable, after all, you can't lay out everything to an eleven year old First Year. Some not. Had it not been for Impmon, would he have ever really known?

He didn't want to doubt. He didn't want to hear doubts coming from Dumbledore's own brother. He met Aberforth's gaze, so like his brother's. A gaze that saw beneath the surface, and he sensed that Aberforth was thinking the same thing, and resented Harry for it.

"Professor Dumbledore really cared for Harry. A lot", Hermione offered softly.

"Did he now?", Aberforth asked. "Funny thing that: how many of the people my brother cared about a lot came to unfortunate ends".

"How do you mean?", Hermione asked.

"Never you mind about that", he replied.

"That's a really serious accusation you're making... Are you... Does this have anything to do with your sister, Ariana?"

Aberforth glared back at Hermione for asking. His mouth moved wordlessly, as if trying to decide between swallowing them or spitting them out.

"My sister was just six. She was in our back yard, doing simple magic, just like all wizarding children. She didn't know any better; she couldn't control it. What child can? There were these three muggle boys, being typical boys, spying through the hedge. They saw, and confronted her. When she couldn't explain the 'trick' (finger quotes) to them, they beat her up. They were afraid, I suspect. Just trying to make the little freak stop. Things got out of hand..."

Aberforth had to pause. He stood up, stepped over to the fireplace. Hermione's eyes were huge, Ron looked a bit sick. Aberforth drew himself up, terrible in anger and pain:

"Ariana was never right after that. She decided that she wouldn't do magic, that she would do her best to be 'normal', like the other children. Only you can't just be rid of magic. Instead, it turned back on itself, gradually drove her mad. It exploded out of her when she could least control it. At times, it was strange, even dangerous, but most of the time, she was a sweet girl... sweet and harmless.

"My father saw, and he went after those bastards. Attacked them magically. Of course, the Ministry found out about it. The aurors came and took him away. He refused any defense; he was sentenced to Azkaban. He couldn't tell, because, if he had, Ariana would have been sent to the psych ward at St. Mungo's as a danger to herself, others, and a threat to Secrecy. He could not bear the thought of her spending the rest of her life locked up. So he sacrificed his freedom, and eventually, his life.

"We moved to a nice quiet place in the country where no one knew us, and we knew no one. We figured it would do Ariana a world of good, a nice quiet place in the country. We put it about that Ariana was a sickly child, that's why she wouldn't be seen at school, or out playing around the yard. Thanks to my mother's stand-off-ish behaviour, our convenient lies, they believed everything we told them about Ariana. Finally, we could keep her calm and happy.

"I was her favourite", he said, and seemed to be transported back in time, to when he was a young school boy.

"Not Albus", he shook his head. "Oh no, never Albus. He spent every minute he was at home up in his room, escaping into his books, keeping up with his pen-pals across the Wizarding World, doing everything to shut out the rest of us. Ariana wasn't his problem, you see. In that regard, he wasn't all that different from the muggle sibling of a disabled child who resents that he can't have a new bike because of the medical bills for the resented sibling. _He_ didn't want the bother", Aberforth sneered. "Ariana liked me best: I could persuade her to eat even when Mother could not. I could calm her rages when no one else could. When she was OK, she helped me feed the goats and care for the yard.

"Then when she was fourteen, see, I wasn't there. If I'd've been there, I might have been able to calm her down. She was in one of her rages, and Mother, she wasn't as young as she used to be... It was an accident, she didn't mean it, but Mother... died. That was the end of Albus' plans to have a nice vacation with Dogbreath Doge, touring the world before they got their careers underway. After the funeral, Dogbreath took off by himself, and Albus took up his position as head of the family. Ha! What a laugh!"

Aberforth spat into the fireplace.

"I'd've looked after her. I said I would stay home and look after her. Albus told me I needed to go to school, finish my education. I told him I didn't care about school, that I'd be glad to look after Ariana. Instead, he ordered me to return to Hogwart's, and said he would take over for Mother. What a bring-down that must've been for Mr. Brilliant. No accolades for taking care of a half insane sister. However, he actually did OK, for awhile. Until... _he_ came... Grindelwald.

"Finally, my brother had someone his equal: just as brilliant, just as talented. After that, Ariana took a distant second place. The two of them were always off by themselves, planning their New Wizarding World Order, and looking for Hallows, or whatever the hell it was that captured their fancy at the moment. Grand plans for a new Wizarding Order, and so what did it matter if a lonely girl got neglected? It was all for 'The Greater Good' (finger quotes). In the end Ariana wouldn't have to hide, wouldn't have to be afraid of her magic, not after the Wizards had taken their rightful place, and the muggles taught theirs.

"After a few weeks of that, I'd had quite enough. I told 'em - the both of 'em - just like I'm telling you right now. I told them that Ariana was in no condition to go with them as they gave their speeches and whipped up a following. It was too much to expect that they could do that and give her the care she needed. Grindelwald didn't want to hear any of it. He called me a stupid little boy, and how dare I hold back my brilliant brother. Of how it was envy, not concern for my sister, that made me oppose them and their plans for 'The Greater Good'.

"There was an argument, as you can well imagine. Anyway, wands were drawn and my brother's best friend used the Cruciatus Curse on me. Albus tried to stop him, and next thing I knew, we were in a three way duel. This set Ariana off again... she couldn't stand it... I think she wanted to help, but didn't know how... I don't know how it happened. Any one of us could have done it, but Ariana lay there. Dead".

Aberforth had to pause, as he collapsed into a chair. Dorugamon stepped over to his side, and Aberforth's fingers began scratching behind his ears.

"I'm so, so sorry", Hermione offered.

"Gone", Aberforth croaked. "Just like that" He paused to wipe his nose on his cuff.

"'Course Grindelwald scarpered. He already had a 'reputation' back in his own country, and didn't need one here as well. And Albus was free, free of the burden, free to become one of the greatest wizards in a century..."

"He was never free", Harry told him.

"How would you know?". Aberforth asked.

"That injury to his hand? He found a silver ring with a big black stone mounted on it. He recognized it as one of the Hallows he and Grindelwald searched for when he was a young man: the Resurrection Stone. He put it on his finger, before he checked it for curses. He wanted to bring Ariana back so he could apologize for what he'd done, for how he behaved, all those years ago. No, Mr. Dumbledore, he was never free".

"What makes you so sure?"

"He told it to a friend of ours: Impmon"

"How can you be so sure, Harry, that he wasn't just interested in you for what he thought you could do rather than who you are? How can you be sure you aren't as expendable as my sister? For the greater good, of course".

"I don't believe that for a second!", Hermione defended. "Dumbledore _loved_ Harry".

"Then why didn't he tell Harry to hide? Why didn't he say: 'Take care of yourself and here's how you do it...'", Aberforth shot back.

"Because", Harry answered first, "you _can't_ always take the easy way out. You have to think beyond your own safety, you have to think of others, of - dare I say it - the greater good. This is war!"

"Boy, you're only seventeen. You have a whole life ahead of you, and it wasn't right to put that sort of burden on you..."

"I'm of age, and I'm going to keep fighting even if people like you have given up".

"Who said anything about giving up?"

Harry quoted Aberforth's words back to him: "'I was in the Order of the Phoenix', 'There is no Order of the Phoenix', 'It's over, Youknowwho won. We lost', need I go on?"

"I don't like it any more than you do, but let's be realistic about this".

"No: capitulation isn't realistic. Your brother knew how to defeat Youknowwho once and for all. He passed that knowledge to me, and I intend to act on it until I'm either successful or dead. Didn't it occur to you that I already knows how this plays out? That I haven't known for years now?"

He waited for Aberforth to come up with more rejections, more reasons why this was a fool's errand, more name-calling. It never came.

"We need to find a way into Hogwart's. If you either can not or will not help us, then we'll wait until morning and leave you in peace. We'll try to find a way inside by ourselves. Otherwise, if you know something you're not sharing with us, now would be a really good time to mention it".

Aberforth just sat there, Dorugamon had flopped onto his back, and Aberforth scratched his white underside. His eyes, looking so much like the Professor's continued studying Harry.

"Curious creatures, these digimon", Aberforth said, more to himself than anyone else. He reached into his robes and removed something, at first they thought his wand...

"_A digivice!"_, Hermione gasped.

"...And a Blue Card", Harry added.

"Two days after Dorugamon arrived, I was sitting up here, just like now. He told me where he came from, and why he was here. Dorugamon said 'You are the one I seek', This white light appeared out of nowhere, like a glowing ball. It settled into my hands, and there it was. Dorugamon said we were partners... You kids are determined aren't you? Nothing I can say to make you change your minds?"

"No, Mr. Dumbledore, there isn't", Harry replied. Ron and Hermione nodded their agreement.

Aberforth got up and stepped to the fireplace: "Ariana, you know what to do", he said.

As they watched, Ariana left the painting, but not as they were accustomed to seeing. The subject of every other portrait would walk off to one side or another, disappearing into the frame, to reappear in a different portrait, either the same subject located elsewhere, or into another's portrait to visit. This time, Ariana turned around and walked _into_ the painting, receding into what looked like a long tunnel. It was so unlike...

"Digital World artifact", Harry said.

"You know about that too, I see. All the old secret passageways are blocked at both ends, protected with charms and curses, guarded 24/7 by Death Eaters. Dementors patrol the walls, regular patrols in the corridors - or so my sources inform me. There's just one way in, and that's a detour through the Digital World.

"Hogwart's has never been so heavily patrolled, once you're inside, I don't see what good it'll do you. You say you're ready to die. You just might do that".

Ariana was returning, growing larger as she walked towards them. This time, someone was with her. His hair was longer than Harry had seen it, he walked with a slight limp he didn't have before, and there were cuts on his face. His clothes were ripped and torn. They came closer until just head and shoulders filled the frame. The picture swung aside, revealing what looked like a shimmering tunnel. Out climbed the real Neville Longbottom, who gave a whoop of delight as he jumped down from the mantle.

"I knew you'd come. I knew it. Harry!"

"Neville... what the... _fuck_?!", Harry started. In person, Neville looked even worse. One eye was swollen, bruised, yellow outlining the bluish-purple swelling. He looked like the loser of a street brawl.

Neville spotted Ron and Hermione: more yells of delight, more hugs exchanged all around. Aberforth wasn't happy about all the noise, but didn't bother protesting.

"I knew you'd come. I kept telling Seamus you would come!"

"Neville, what happened to you?", Harry asked, concerned.

"What? This?", Neville replied, "It's nothing", he replied. "Seamus is a lot worse off, you'll see. Shall we get going, then?". He turned to Aberforth: "By the way, some more folks should be arriving soon", he announced.

"What? Who's coming? There's that Caterwauling Charm... Longbottom!"

"I know, that's why they'll be apparating straight to the inside of the pub, so's they don't set it off", Neville explained. "Just send 'em along. Thanks a lot for everything you've done for us".

Neville held out a hand to Hermione to help her up. Ron followed, then Neville. Harry turned to Aberforth:

"Thanks for everything. You saved our lives twice".

"Look after 'em, then. I might not be able to save 'em a third time", he explained.

Harry was up and through the opening. He saw his friends ahead of him. The passage was dark, very little light, but for a faint green glow. All around them swirled at random brighter green ASCII characters: plus signs, asterisks, carats, exclamation points, greater than arrows, ampersands, square and curly brackets - all the characters used in most programming languages. These seemed to pop in and out of view. They seemed to be standing on a transparent floor.

"So, Harry", Neville said, "is it true? You broke into Gringott's? Escaped on a dragon?"

"You heard about that?"

"It's all anyone could talk about. That Travers beat up Terry Boot after he yelled about it in the Great Hall after dinner".

"Yes, it's true", Harry confirmed.

Neville laughed in glee.

"What did you do with the dragon?", he asked.

"Let it go..."

"Hermione wanted to keep it for a pet", Ron added.

"What have you been doing?", Neville asked. "A lot of people say you're just on the run, but I said you're up to something".

"You're right, but tell me about Hogwart's. We haven't heard anything", Harry asked.

"Well", Neville began, "I'm afraid it isn't really like the Hogwart's you'd recognize. Snape's Headmaster now, and Malfoy and that bunch are back", Neville's smile faded. "You heard about Travers and Jugson?"

"The Death Eaters?"

"Yeah. Them. They aren't just professors. They're in charge of discipline now. They like punishment... a _lot_"

"Like Umbridge?"

"Those two make Umbridge look like a choir girl in comparison. The other teachers are supposed to refer all cases of misbehaviour to those two. They don't, if there's any way they can avoid it. You can tell they all hate them as much as we do. Anyway, Jugson teaches what used to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, but now, it's just the Dark Arts. We're supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on students sent to detention..."

"They do _what_?", Harry asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, that's how I got this", Neville said, as he pointed to a particularly nasty gash on his cheek. "I refused. Some are into it, though, Crabbe and Goyle especially. It's the first time those two have been at the top of anything in class.

"Travers teaches Muggle Studies, now a mandatory course. We have to listen to his rants about how muggles are nothing but animals. How stupid and dirty they are, how they chased the wizards into hiding by persecuting them. How the glorious New Order is going to restore the 'natural balance'. I got this one", he pointed to another slash across the face, "for asking how much muggle blood was in his family".

"Blimey", Ron said, "There's a time and place to mouth off..."

"I think it does a lot of good. You weren't there, and you didn't hear what he said. You wouldn't've stood for it either. Lets 'em know that we can't be intimidated into silent complicity. Keeps everyone's spirits up, like when Harry stood up to Umbridge. They don't want to spill too much pure blood, but they torture us a bit".

Harry didn't know what was worse, the way the students were being treated, or the casual way Neville talked about what was done to others and him.

"The only ones in any real danger are those whose parents or relatives are making trouble on the outside. They get taken hostage, like Luna, pulled off the train..."

"She's OK..."

"Yeah, I know. Sent me a message", he said as he pulled a gold coin from a pocket. It was one of the fake Galleons that Dumbledore's Army had used to set up practice meets when Umbridge was High Inquisitor. "These have been great", he beamed at Hermione. "Jugson's never figured it out, and it drives him crazy. We used to do stuff like sneak out after lights out and leave graffiti like: 'Dumbledore's Army: Still Recruiting' - stuff like that".

"You used to?", Harry asked.

"It got harder to get away with it, as time went on, security tightened. Then we lost Luna; Ginny didn't return after the spring break. We were sort of the ring leaders. Jugson figured I was behind a lot of it, and he and Travers came down pretty hard on me. Then Michael Corner released a First Year they'd chained up. He got caught and was tortured pretty bad. That sort of scared people off".

"No shit", Ron replied.

"Anyway, I couldn't ask others to go through what Mike went through, so we left off doing anything so provocative. We haven't given up, but our resistance had to take a different direction. More subtle stuff. That was until a couple of weeks ago. They decided I needed to be stopped. They went after Gran".

"They did that?"

"Yeah, they figured that if holding kids hostage worked to silence their parents, it might just work in reverse. They weren't counting on Gran, though. Little old lady living alone, well, they didn't bother sending anyone really powerful. They bit off a lot more than they could chew...", Neville laughed. "Dawlish is still in St. Mungo's, and Gran is on the lamm. I got a letter", he patted a front pocket. "She said she's proud of me, and that I'm my parents' son, and to keep up the good work".

"Cool", Ron said.

"Except they decided Hogwart's could do without me, now that they had no hold over me. I don't know if they were planning a trip to Azkaban, or just a nice, clean disappearance, but I wasn't about to stick around to find out".

"But, aren't we headed _into_ Hogwart's?", Ron asked.

"'Course, you'll see... We're here".

"I told you they'd be back!", Neville announced.

"Harry!"

"It's Potter!"

"They're back!"

"Glad to have you back!"

"Hermione!"

"Ron!"

They were mobbed, pounded on the back, engulfed in hugs, hair ruffled. There must have been a couple dozen. Finally, Harry got a good look at the room. It looked like an especially well built summer camp cabin. Colourful hammocks hung from the ceiling. The walls equipped with well stocked bookcases, the dark wood paneled walls hung with tapestries. There was the gold Gryffindor lion emblazoned on a scarlet background, the black badger of Hufflepuff against yellow, the bronze eagle of Ravenclaw on dark blue. Even the green and silver of Slytherin was there: Zabini, the Quidditch player, decided he was not going along with the rest of the Dark Lord's former House. In the corner, the large wood cabinet of a wireless.

Seamus was indeed in worse shape than Neville. Harry didn't even recognize him at first, though they shared dorms in Gryffindor Tower.

"Where are we?"

"Room of Requirement, of course", Neville explained. "It's really outdone itself, hasn't it? I discovered this when I was trying to escape Jugson. I came in here, 'course it wasn't so large yet, and just the one hammock. After a day, I asked about getting something to eat, and that's when that passage into Aberforth's place opened. I went through and met him, and he agreed to keep us supplied. More and more students began to show up, and the room increased in size, more hammocks appeared. Once girls started arriving, separate restroom facilities appeared.

"There's just the one thing", Neville said, "that passage... never saw anything like it".

"It looks so different", Harry said, "because it goes through the Digital World. Dorugamon..."

"Digital World?", Neville asked.

"Where digimon come from".

"Like that friend of yours we helped cover for? But I thought Impmon was the only one?"

"He isn't", Harry told of meeting Dorugamon when they were visiting Godric's Hollow, Jadin's mission to the Digital World, the existence of more Mentors. That Aberforth had joined their ranks.

"Then the unknown beings the _Prophet _mentioned..."

"Are digimon"

"Jugson and Travers can't get in?", Ron asked.

"No. So long as at least one of us is in here, the room won't open", explained Seamus Finnegan. "It's all Neville's doing: he really understands this room. You have to tell it _precisely_ what you want, and say 'No supporters of Death Eaters, no supporters of Jugson and Travers', and it'll do it. You've just got to make sure you eliminate any loopholes".

"It's not so difficult, actually", Neville said.

Harry felt a sudden, scorching pain in his head. He turned his back on his admirers. The room of requirement vanished. He was standing in an old abandoned stone cabin. Dry rotted floor boards ripped up and piled at his feet. An empty hole below the floor. He screamed in fury. With an enormous effort, he pulled himself out of Voldemort's mind.

"You OK?", Neville was asking. "Need to lie down? You must be exhausted..."

"No. It's OK", he looked to Hermione and Ron, hoping to wordlessly communicate what he'd just seen. That Voldemort had discovered another missing horcrux, that time was running out.

"We need to get going", Harry announced. Their expressions told him they understood.

"What are we doing? What's the plan?", Seamus asked.

"Plan?", Harry replied. It took almost all his concentration to avoid being pulled back into Voldemort's rage. "There's something we need to find..."

"OK, where do we start looking?", he asked.

"I don't know... I mean, just us, not you. It has to be the three of us..."

"I don't understand", Neville said. There was murmuring through the room. Everyone there was expecting – hoping – to be included in Harry's plans. It wasn't fair now that he had arrived, after all their waiting and longing, to be told they were not wanted.

"OK, guys, what it is, is something to do with Ravenclaw", Ron took over. "Don't worry, you _will_ get your chance, but not right now. Youknowwho is coming, no telling when he arrives, but sometime later tonight. As for now, we can move more quickly on our own. For now, we need you to stay right here. That's the most helpful thing you can do". He looked to the Ravenclaw students: Padma, Michael, Terry, Cho.

It was Padma who answered: "There's the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. If you want to see what it looks like, there's a statue in the Ravenclaw common room".

"Yeah, but the Lost Diadem, is well, _lost_", Michael objected. "That's why they call it the Lost Diadem".

"No one has seen it?", Hermione asked. "What about Professor Flitwick? What does he have to say about it?"

"It was lost centuries ago. There hasn't been a class of Ravenclaws who haven't tried to find it. It's said to have magical properties, to make you smarter. Insta-Outstandings - helluva reason to want to find it..."

"So it's none too likely to be in or around Ravenclaw Tower?"

"Someone would'a found it by now, if it was".

"Thanks for understanding", Harry announced. "I'm going to have a look at that statue, at least see what the diadem looks like".

"How do we get out?", Harry asked Neville.

"Over here", he pointed to a cabinet that opened onto a steep staircase. "It comes out in a different location every time. Makes it impossible to track".

Padma and Harry oriented themselves with the Marauder's Map. They'd come out on the fifth floor. Padma led the way under the cover of the invisibility cloak to Ravenclaw Tower. So far, so good: they hadn't seen any sign of the patrols Aberforth mentioned. The spiral stairs led to a plain wood door without handle or lock. There was just a knocker in the shape of an eagle's head. Padma lifted the knocker and it banged with a sound like a rifle shot. The apparently solid knocker opened its beak, but instead of an eagle's screech, there came a melodious voice, and she answered the word puzzle it gave.

The Ravenclaw common room was pretty much as Jadin had described it. The statue was set into a niche on the far side of the room, next to a door leading to the dorms above. Harry approached the statue, and it seemed to be looking back at him with a quizzical half smile, beautiful but still slightly intimidating. A delicate circlet was perched on top of her head. There was something inscribed there, and Harry stepped out from under the cloak to stand on the plinth for a better look.

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure", he repeated the slogan of House Ravenclaw out loud.

"Which makes you pretty skint, witless", came an unfamiliar voice. Harry slipped off the plinth, and landed on the floor, almost losing his balance. It was Jugson, but before Harry could do anything, he pressed his Dark Mark. Harry's scar burned viciously. Now he was standing beneath a seaside cliff, the sea was washing around him as his heart burned with triumph - _They have the boy!_

A loud bang brought Harry back. Jugson was falling forward, making no attempt to keep himself from planting his face into the floor. He fell with such a thud that the glass of the bookcases rattled.

"I never stunned anyone except for our lessons", Padma explained. "I wasn't expecting it to be so loud". The ceiling began to rumble, and footfalls were heading down steps. Ravenclaws were coming to see what all the racket was.

"Where are you?", he called out, and feet appeared. He ducked under the cloak just before the first students entered the common room. There were gasps and cries of surprise at the sight of Jugson lying there. They shuffled slowly around, as wary as though approaching a wild animal that had been tranquilized, though which could awaken in an instant. One First Year ran up and prodded with his toes.

"I think he's dead!", he said with obvious delight.

"Oh look!", Padma whispered, "they're pleased!"

"Terrific", Harry replied.

There was a rap on the door and everyone froze. From the other side, came the next question: "Where do vanished object go?"

"How the hell would I know?", snarled an uncouth voice. "Jugson? Jugson? You in there? Open the damn door!"

There came a series of loud bangs, like gunshots. Some of the Ravenclaws were making their way towards the door leading to the dorms. "Jugson! If he comes and we ain't got Potter... d'you want to go the same as the Malfoys? ANSWER ME!" Travers was shaking the door for all he was worth. The Ravenclaws were backing away, and some running back up to their dorms. as Harry was wondering if he shouldn't fling open the door and stun him, he heard another, more familiar voice.

"May I ask what you're doing Professor Travers?", it was Minerva McGonagall.

"Trying to... get through... this damn door! Get Flitwick..."

"Isn't your associate in there? Didn't he already get Professor Flitwick to let him in on your urgent request? Have him open it..."

"That's the problem, he ain't openin' it, you old besom! _You_ open it! Garn! Do it now!"

"Certainly, since you asked so nicely".

McGonagall lifted the knocker just a bit for a light tap: "Where do vanished objects go?"

"Into nothingness, which is to say into everything"

"Nicely put", and the door swung open.

The few remaining Ravenclaws sprinted for the stairs. His eyes went directly to Jugson, lying motionless on the floor. He let out a yell of fear and anger.

"What've they done the little whelps? I'll Cruciate the lot of 'em until they tell me who done this... what's the Dark Lord gonna say?" He pounded his fist into his forehead: "We haven't got him and they gorn an' killed him!"

"He's only stunned", McGonagall said as she stooped down for a closer look. "He'll be alright".

"No he damn well won't! Not after the Dark Lord gets done with him! I felt me mark burn, he's gorn and summoned him and we ain't got Potter!"

"Got Potter?", what do you mean, got Potter?", McGonagall asked sharply.

"He told us Potter might tryan get into Ravenclaw Tower, and to send for him if we caught him".

"Why would Potter try to get into Ravenclaw Tower? Potter's in _my_ House". Beneath the anger and incredulity there was an unmistakable tone of pride there.

"We was told he might tryan get in here, I dunnow why, do I?"

Travers got an idea.

"Here's what we'll do. Them kids up there, we say that they attacked Jugson, forced his finger to the Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm. The Dark Lord can punish them how he sees fit. That should satisfy him... a couple kids, more or less, what difference does that make?"

"No difference at all, Professor Travers", McGonagall replied, "other than the difference between courage and cowardice, truth and lies, right and wrong. Distinctions that seem to be lost on yourself and your associate. As for your suggestion, I will have no part of it. You will not blame your own inadequacies and ineptitudes on the students of this school! I won't permit it!"

"You won't permit... _you_ won't permit? Minerva, your time's past, it's us what run things now. And you damn well _will_ back me up... or else!", Travers threatened. He moved closer to McGonagall, but she did not back down. She looked down at Travers with the same expression she would have used to examine something really nasty stuck to the bottom of her shoe. He then spat in her face.

Harry threw aside the invisibility cloak, wand ready: "You shouldn't've done that!"

Travers whirled around: "Crucio!"

Harry's attack sent Travers flying, flopping through the air, flailing around like a fish out of water, as he screamed in anger and agony. He smashed into a bookcase, breaking out the glass, then slid to the floor, unconscious.

"Potter!", McGonagall exclaimed. "How did you... Why... What are you doing here? It's madness to come here! Absolute madness!"

"He spat at you..."

"Well, that was... very gallant of you, but still... You need to get out of here immediately!"

"Professor", he explained. "There's something we need to do, something Dumbledore left for me. I have to find something that's hidden here in the castle. I have reason to believe it's Ravenclaw's diadem... If you know anything?"

"Nothing more than you've already heard. The diadem was lost during Rowena Ravenclaw's lifetime, and there is no record of anyone's having seen it since. Are you _sure_ that's what you're looking for?"

"I am now. Jugson said that Youknowwho was afraid I'd come to Ravenclaw Tower. You heard him say so. Why would he be so afraid I'd come here, of all places? Why did he put a special watch here, and not over at the Gryffindor Tower?", as he put the cloak on, and headed out of the common room with Professor McGonagall.

Travers was coming around. McGonagall pointed her wand: "Imperio!". Travers' eyes went blank. He got up, and laid down beside Jugson. McGonagall waved her wand again, and produced a silvery rope that bound the two of them tightly together. She then lifted the two into the air, leaving them suspended, up side down, slowly rotating on the end of their tether.

Harry was interrupted by a vision of Voldemort. He was sitting in a small boat speeding over a black lake. He was almost to the island. So Voldemort decided to check on the locket first. That was good to know, and meant they had a bit more time.

"Who's out there?", a familiar voice called out.

"It's I, Minerva McGonagall".

Snape appeared from around a corner: "I wasn't aware that it was your night to patrol?", he asked.

"You have some objection?"

"I was under the impression that Professor Jugson had apprehended an intruder... I wonder what could possibly have brought you out at so late an hour?"

"I thought I heard a disturbance"

Snape looked all around: "Everything seems perfectly calm", he said with a hint of sarcasm. "Have you seen Harry Pot-ter, because if you have..."

Harry didn't know McGonagall could move that fast as she shoved him into an empty classroom, the door banging shut. After long minutes, they emerged.

"You can come out Pot-ter", Snape said with that usual slow drawl. Harry lifted the cloak.

Snape's eyebrow lifted slightly: "Ms. Patil, I wasn't expecting you. If Pot-ter is here, then surely Flopsey and Mopsey can't be far behind?"

"Hermione and Ron are waiting for us to get back. There's something we need to find..."

"And your muggle friend?"

"I haven't heard from Jadin since he went to... that place we talked about before", Harry explained.

"Pot-ter, I suggest you get busy if you need to find something..."

"Professor", McGonagall interrupted, "we need to evacuate the students..."

"Quite impossible..."

"There's a way: a passage that leads straight to the Hog's Head. In the Room of Requirement. They can disapparate from the Hog's Head. They won't be paying attention to people leaving from Hogsmeade...", Harry explained.

For once, Professor Snape couldn't help but be impressed. "Very good, Mr. Potter, maybe I have underestimated you after all".

Harry saw through Voldemort's eyes a stone basin filled with clear liquid. The view of the bottom was unobstructed, and there was no locket resting on the bottom.

The students had assembled in the Great Hall. Some in traveling cloaks thrown hastily over pajamas, some in dress robes, all looking very anxious.

"The evacuation will be overseen by Madam Pomfrey and Mr. Filch. Prefects: you will organize your Houses, and take your charges in a clam, orderly manner to the evacuation point".

Many students looked positively petrified. Earnie MacMillian stood up at the Hufflepuff table: "What if we want to stay and fight?", he asked. There was a murmuring of agreement, a smattering of applause.

"If you are of age, then you are welcome to volunteer your aid. If you are not, then you will have to evacuate".

"What about our things?", came another question, "our trunks, owls..."

"You won't have time to collect personal possessions. We are leaving from the Hall directly. I'm sorry".

"Where's Professor Snape?", someone called out from the Slytherin table.

"Professor Snape is working with the other faculty and staff in the preparation of defenses to buy us time to get you safely away from Hogwart's..."

Harry was running up and down along the walls, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, looking for Ron and Hermione. They weren't there when he returned to the Room of Requirement. He'd had another vision: Voldemort speeding across the lake, filled with rage now that he'd seen that the locket he thought safe had already been discovered. Voldemort knew he'd lost two of his horcruxes, no idea as to whether or not they'd been destroyed.

"...it is unlikely to hold for very long, therefore, I ask you to move along quickly, but calmly. If the prefects would..."

Her speech was interrupted by another one:

"I know you are preparing to fight". Many students looked around, trying to see who was speaking It sounded like it was coming from all around them, from the walls and ceiling. "Resistance is futile. You can not fight me and expect to win. I do not want to harm you. I have great respect for Hogwart's, all its students, and faculty. I do not wish to spill magical blood.

"Give me Harry Potter, and no one will be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and you shall be rewarded handsomely. You have until midnight to decide".

They waited in the silence, wondering if they would hear more from Lord Voldemort. It seemed as though every eye had turned on Harry, who stood behind the Gryffindor table. The silence finally broke.

"Potter's there", it was Pansy Parkinson at the Slytherin table, standing and pointing.

"He's _there_! Someone, grab him!", she ordered.

The Gryffindor's rose as one. However, they all faced forward. Next, the Hufflepuffs, stood. At nearly the same time, so did the Ravenclaws. All backs to Harry, all facing the Slytherin table. Wands were coming out from inside pockets, and sleeves. Harry was proud to see that not a single one had chosen allegiance to Voldemort.

"Thank you, Ms. Parkinson", McGonagall said. "You will leave first, if your House will follow Mr. Filch". There was a grinding of bench legs against the stone floor, as the Slytherin table cleared, save for one.

"Mr. Malfoy", McGonagall asked, "didn't you hear? You may leave".

"No", he said. He looked up: "After tonight, no one will say that every member of my House turned tail and ran".

"Draco, you can stay: help, or stay out of our way. If you intend to oppose us..."

"I won't"

"Ravenclaws follow on".

House Ravenclaw had gotten the lion's share of the First Years, though most of the remaining Of Age Ravenclaws stayed. There were more Hufflepuffs, and over half of the Gryffindor's remaining. This made it necessary for McGonagall to come down from the podium to move the underage along.

"Out of the question, Creevey", "And you, Parker!", she ordered.

The last of the students were escorted out, on their way to the evacuation point, where, hopefully, the Order was awaiting them. McGonagall was at the podium: "We have about twenty minutes to devise a battle plan...", she began.


	28. The Showdown

**28) The Showdown**

The doors to the Great Hall banged open. All eyes turned to see who was arriving. They could not have been more astonished by the sight.

"Who are they?", came the inevitable questions around the tables.

"Blimey! Forget that! _What_ are they?!"

"Those creatures mentioned in the_ Prophet_?"

"The unknown allies?"

"Then they _do_ exist!"

"Muggles?"

"Is that..."

"Can't be... We were at the funeral... Sure does look like him".

"They have to be Impmon's friends".

"What were they called again?"

These new arrivals looked oddly out of place. All but one were in muggle attire, as an elderly wizard stood out, quite out of place but for the creature accompanying him. One girl didn't look old enough to be a First Year.

It was obvious the new-comers had never seen anything like Hogwart's, as they were looking all around the Great Hall, eyes wide, at everything Hogwart's students took for granted: the hundreds of floating candles that provided all the illumination, the ceiling displaying a replica of the night sky outside, the medieval aspect and furnishings of the Great Hall.

"Jadin! Impmon! Luna!", Cho called from the Ravenclaw table, as she waved. "Never thought we'd see you back at Hogwart's!" Luna Lovegood was hanging off Jadin's arm. When she apparated to the Hog's Head, she insisted on waiting until Jadin and Impmon arrived.

"We're sure glad to see you made it back!"

"Welcome back!"

Other Ravenclaws called back. Then they gave the new-comers a standing ovation.

A cheer went up from the Gryffindors' table. The Hufflepuffs could only look on, perplexed, wondering what secret Ravenclaw and Gryffindor shared that they did not. Draco smiled to himself. He knew it, he'd figured it out.

Members of the Order of the Phoenix followed on: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin, Arthur and Molly Weasley, their kids: the twins, Fred and George, Charley, Bill and Fleur, and incredibly enough: Percy, the black sheep who'd given his loyalty to the Ministry. Percy Weasley seldom dropped by the Burrow, knowing that he was not entirely welcome. Now it seemed that all was forgiven, and that loyalty to the family had won out over loyalty to the new regime, and its figure head Minister: Pius Thicknesse. Mad Eye Moody and Tonks.

"Just bringin' some reinforcements", Jadin greeted as he waved back to his House-mates.

"Ravenclaws kick ass!", Luna announced with a good deal of enthusiasm.

"Always second behind Gryffindor, though", Zachariah Smith taunted from the Hufflepuff table.

"Eagles eat badgers!"

"Enough!", McGonagall called out. She descended from the faculty tables at the head of the Hall: "Jadin?". She had not been informed by the Order as to the part Jadin and the Mentors were to play.

"Everyone: Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Head Mistress of Hogwart's"

Then addressing McGonagall: "Professor McGonagall, Renamon and her partner, Rita Knowles".

"Pleased to make your acquaintance", Rita replied. Minerva had reservations about the young girl who didn't look old enough to have received that first owlpost or personal invitation to attend as a First Year. Rita was wearing long blue jeans, sneakers, and a brightly colored T-shirt. As did Jadin, she had her digivice and a card carrier clipped to her belt. Red hair pulled into a pony tail held in place with a rubber band.

Renamon stood over six feet, a yellow anthrovixen with an almond shaped face with small black nose, delicate mouth, and sapphire blue eyes that stood out against a black background behind lashes and eyelids. The only thing she wore was a pair of fingerless, elbow length, light purple gloves. She made no attempt to cover herself, and obviously didn't care. The thought occurred to Minerva that these digimon were even less modest than house elves.

Renamon held out a three-fingered, white furry hand: "Professor", she said.

She took it: "Renamon, Rita", she greeted, "welcome to Hogwart's".

"I don't know if you've ever met Aberforth Dumbledore, owner of the Hog's Head, and his partner Dorugamon?"

"We've met". It was an uncomfortable moment. Minerva had been to the Hog's Head, though not recently, and not often. Albus had barely mentioned his brother, or anything else about his family, and McGonagall could only suppose there'd been some sort of falling out. "I didn't know you had a partner?", she asked.

"Up until a couple of weeks ago, I didn't", Aberforth explained. "Just doing what I could for Harry and his friends... They sent Dorugamon to me for help... It just happened. Dorugamon told me I was the one he sought, and the Ancient Ones of his world agreed". He shook his head: "I can't explain it... I thought only muggle kids... but obviously not".

"Terriermon and his partner Henry Wright".

Henry could easily pass for Third Year. A helmet of thick black hair, an olive complexion. He was wearing dark brown slacks, terry cloth sweat bands on both wrists, sneakers. He had his digivice clipped to his belt, but kept his cards in the pockets of an orange vest worn over a plain T-shirt.

Terriermon, despite the name, looked more lapine than canine. Short, cream coloured fur with bright green markings, a single horn projecting from his forehead. Black eyes, small black nose. He was no taller than a house elf, but stood on very short, stubby legs. Unlike most digimon: five thin fingers. He was perched on Henry's shoulder, one long ear wrapped around Henry's head.

"Moumentai", he greeted. "We will protect Hogwart's for you".

"Moumentai: no problem", Henry explained.

"Terry Kaminsky and his partner Augomon".

Terry seemed to be about the same age as Jadin. His long hair looking like it had never seen a comb or hair brush.

Augomon was a smallish (about the same size as Impmon) yellowish-orange dinosaur with green eyes that looked mammalian, not reptilian. He held out a hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance", he said.

"Hawkmon and his partner, Yvonne Innis". Yvonne also looked like a Fifth Year. Hawkmon looked very much like a bipedal red tailed hawk, and not much larger. His one fashion accessory was a single one of his own tail feathers worn on a leather head band.

"Professor McGonagall", Yvonne greeted.

"Lady McGonagall", Hawkmon said, as he stood as tall on his toes as he could to plant a kiss on the back of her hand.

"Jadin, how...", McGonagall started.

"Dumbledore's Army", Jadin explained. "Neville and the others still here sent word to the members on the outside and they contacted the Order. Kingsley, Tonks, Arthur and the others then collected the Mentors who'd agreed to help out, and apparated with them to the Hog's Head. I made the arrangements myself".

"I thank all of you for coming", Minerva addressed the Mentors and their partners. "You are not magi, and have no obligation to fight. If you want to back out now, you may join the evacuating students, and none of us will think any the lesser of you. If you decide to stay, you and your partners are placing yourselves into a life threatening situation. Voldemort is very dangerous, and he means to attack us seriously. This is no game".

"Mentors _never_ run from a fight", Rita replied first. "Doesn't matter who the bad guys are".

"Damn straight", the other Mentors agreed.

"If this Lord Voldemort wants to hurt our partners, he has a real problem with us", Yvonne agreed. She and Hawkmon already had a run-in with his followers.

McGonagall had her doubts, though Wizarding Law didn't apply to muggles...

"Rita, my dear", McGonagall asked, "How old are you?", as she took the youngest Mentor aside.

"Ten", Rita replied. That's when she saw Jadin standing behind everyone, waving and mouthing "No" at her. McGonagall looked on, perplexed.

"You can't do that", Jadin explained, as he took McGonagall aside. "A digimon's loyalty to his or her partner is unquestionable. Asking Renamon to fight, then sending them away is a great insult. We might lose all the digimon".

Renamon sensed what the problem was, and came up to McGonagall. The yellow anthro-vixen got down on one knee, head bowed: "I will protect my partner even at the cost of my own life". Rita did an eye roll: her partner had a tendency to be overly dramatic at times.

"Stand, Renamon", McGonagall said. "I'm sure you will. Let's hope it doesn't come to that". McGonagall addressed the other digimon: "Your main priority is the protection of your partners. We can take care of Hogwart's, but I need to know your partners will be safe".

"Professor, have you seen..."

"Harry, aren't you supposed to be looking for something?"

"Yes, Professor".

McGonagall addressed the members of the Order: "Professor Snape will lead a group to the Astronomy Tower, and Professor Flitwick's going to take some of his Ravenclaws to the West Tower. They should have a good vantage point for observation and casting spells. I, of course, will lead Gryffindors to Gryffindor Tower", she explained.

"The Order will take other students to protect the grounds", Mad Eye Moody replied.

"Sounds like a job for us!", Fred and George volunteered.

"Agreed", McGonagall and Moody replied. "As for the digimon..."

"Leave that to us", Jadin explained.

Harry went out into the hall, wondering where Ron and Hermione could have gotten to. It wasn't like them to run away, they certainly wouldn't do a thing like that, out of the question. What sort of scheme could they be working on? Now that he knew what the horcrux was, the Diadem, the next problem was where could it possibly be? Ravenclaw Tower? Didn't seem likely, generations of Ravenclaws, and others, had already searched. Sure, they hadn't torn down the walls. It was possible it was concealed in a compartment hidden behind a wall. However, he didn't think so. Riddle would need to create such a niche, and when could he have?

He wouldn't have had the time when he had seen Dumbledore, some ten years after Riddle's graduation to seek a position as Professor of DADA. That left one possibility: reached by a quick diversion to or from Dumbledore's offices, concealed, a secret that Riddle, in his arrogance, might believe was his and his alone: the Room of Requirement. Harry had another problem: the Room of Requirement was enormous, stuffed with centuries' worth of hidden and discarded items. Harry thought of another scene from a movie: the Lost Ark being reburied, this time in a vast government warehouse, piled high with identical looking wooden crates. That's pretty much how the Room of Requirement looked. And the diadem was a helluvalot smaller than the Ark. There was another problem: the Lost Diadem was highly unlikely to be out in the open.

Harry pushed his way through the last of the evacuating students. He looked out the window to see the first bursts of light in the sky. Midnight had arrived. So far, the protective charms were holding.

Outside the main doors, the first bursts were attacking the perimeter. Professor McGonagall waved her wand: "Piertotum Locomotor!", she cast the spell that animated all the statues and suits of armour. They climbed from plinths and niches where they had stood for centuries.

"Protect the boundaries! Defend our school!", McGonagall encouraged as they marched in double columns through the main doors. Some larger than life, some smaller.

Jadin announced: "This is it". He and the other Mentors gathered in the court yard in front of the main entrance. Out came digivices and Blue Cards. "To Mega, if you can".

The students paused to see what these muggles and their unfamiliar "familiars" were going to do. They'd heard but the vaguest rumours concerning these digimon through the _Prophet_, the Hogwart's grapevine, second hand reports from Jadin, and Jadin's Ravenclaw friends and rumours about what happened in the Dept. of Mysteries. Some knew about Impmon's "transfigurations", but none had actually witnessed digivolution.

"Matrix Evolution!"

The golden Light of Evolution appeared, the digimon seemed to glow from within and without. The digimon disappeared inside those "eggs".

_Impmon Evolve! ..._

**... DEINONDRAMON!**

_Renamon Evolve! ..._

**... SAKUYAMON!**

_Dorugamon Evolve! ..._

**... DORUGREMON!**

_Terriermon Evolve! ..._

**... SAINT GALGOMON!**

_Augomon Evolve! ..._

**... WARGREYMON!**

_Hawkmon Evolve! ..._

**... VALKYRIMON!**

Even the most experienced of the older students reacted as though it were the first day of Transfiguration. They didn't believe such extensive transformations could be possible without magic. Or possible even with it.

Where there was a small figure like a house elf, now stood on powerful hind legs a twelve foot long, dragonish creature with purple scales, large wings with purple feathers, and a tail nearly half the length of the body. The neck long and graceful, tapering to a blunt snout and jaws filled with sharp teeth. Same emerald green, mammalian eyes despite the otherwise dinosaurish appearance. The middle toes tipped with a large, sickle shaped talon. The arrowhead shaped tip was a silver spike around which was tied a red cloth - Impmon's bandanna.

Dorugremon was a quadrupedal, furry dragon, white underside and feet, and red fur with black markings. Black, leathery wings decorated with five brass piercings along the leading edges. He had two sets of wings, the larger just behind the shoulders, and a smaller pair in front of the thick, long tail that tapered to a heavy brass spike around which was tied a silver tassel. The snout sported an ornately curved steel blade.

The little dog-rabbit had become a twenty foot tall, anthro-cat cyborg. The body armour bright green. The thighs looked ridiculously thin, joining calves as thick as tree trunks. Massive feet, each with three, short, yellow claws. The body bristled with gun ports, the shoulders surmounted with rocket launchers. The warheads a bright yellow, and decorated with cute kitty faces.

Wargreymon wore ancient looking armour consisting of plates looking like steel held together with thick cords. The helmet sporting three horns, like Celtic armour. The shoulders and arms protected with light yellow armour, possibly Kevlar (or so it appeared). The matching gauntlets with three razor sharp, dagger-like claws.

"Protect your partners", McGonagall reminded.

"Air cover", Deinondramon offered.

"Sounds good to me", Dorugremon agreed.

"We need someone to protect the docks", Jadin reminded.

"I'm on it", Wargreymon replied as he set off towards Black Lake.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Where the _hell_ have you two been?", a very upset Harry Potter had finally spotted Ron and Hermione. They were carrying some curved, dirty yellow objects, just outside the Room of Requirement.

"It was Ron's idea, actually", Hermione began. "It was brilliant..."

"Down in the Chamber of Secrets...", Ron took over.

"The _Chamber_...", Harry couldn't imagine why, "What? You need to speak Parseltongue to get in there!"

"That's what he did!", Hermione explained.

"Like this", Ron made a guttural hissing sound. "What you said when you opened Slytherin's Locket". Once again, Ron's talent for imitating voices had paid off. "Took me a few tries before I got it right. Then the door opened. Surprised no one bothered to seal it: that's what we were afraid of".

"That's all well and good, but what in the _hell_? At a time like _this?_"

"We had a horcrux, but no way to destroy it, right? No sword? That's when I remembered: Tom Riddle's diary. You didn't use the sword on it. You jabbed it with a Basilisk fang. So I wondered if there might be enough venom still left."

Harry recognized what they had: basilisk fangs, broken from the skull of the Beast of Slytherin. He hadn't known it was still down there.

"I let Hermione take a whack at it, as she hasn't offed a horcrux yet", Ron showed him the mangled remains of Hufflepuff's Cup. "Anyway it worked, and we're down three horcruxes so far".

"That's sheer genius!", Harry congratulated. "Though, we still need to find that diadem..."

"A diadem, you say?" All three froze at the sound of that voice.

"Piss off, Malfoy!", Ron hissed at Draco as soon as he appeared from around a corner.

"Fine, Weasel King, see you in about twenty years", he turned to leave.

"Wait!", Harry called out.

"Are you _mental_?", Ron asked. "Mate, you're not _seriously_..."

"How can we trust you?", Hermione asked. At one time or another, Harry and his friends had less than pleasant encounters with Draco and his cronies, going all the way back to when they were all First Years.

"You can't", Draco agreed. He reached for the left sleeve of his robe. Ron tensed, reached for his wand: "Easy there, Weasel King: I'm taking it out slowly", Draco said as he pulled out his wand, held between thumb and forefinger. He flipped it, caught it by the tip, and pointed the handle at Ron. Ron made no move, just standing there watching, wondering what Malfoy was up to.

"Take it, go on", Ron still made no move, eyes wide, starring at the wand handle. "Go on, take it", Draco insisted again. Ron reached tentatively for the wand, and took it. Jaw hanging open, not believing what he was seeing: Draco's voluntarily disarming himself.

"Ummmm... What's this about a diadem?", Harry asked.

"When I was doing my experiments with the Vanishing Cabinets, I was in and out of the Room of Requirement. One day, I stepped into the room. It was dark, and before I lit my wand, I knocked over a bunch of boxes. One was a red leather case... looked really old, dried out, leather cracking. It was about... so big", Draco indicated the dimensions with his hands. "Brass studs along the edges, brass reinforcements at the corners. The lid was off, and inside was this old looking tiara, silver, but very tarnished. I thought I might clean it, give it to Mother, so I set it aside before restacking the fallen boxes. Forgot about it until now... don't know if it's the one you're looking for".

"If it is, you can be glad you forgot it, otherwise, your mother would probably be dead by now", Harry told him. "Do you think you can find it?"

"I guess so... No promises".

"Harry, I still don't like it... Could be a trap he's leading us into", Ron complained.

"Do you have any better ideas?", Harry challenged. "Besides, Malfoy Manor, he didn't..."

"I knew it was you right off", Draco said. "I could've made you right away... Doesn't that count for something?"

"Would be a good tactic: pretend he didn't recognize you, instill a false sense of trust, and set us up later", Hermione pointed out.

Harry stood there, thinking. He had no reason to trust Malfoy, and every reason not to. What Hermione said made a good deal of sense, but still, Bellatrix hadn't been acting. Of that, he was sure. Could Draco have had another reason not to betray him besides school loyalty? He remembered what Dumbledore had said at the Astronomy Tower: Draco wasn't a killer, Draco still had a conscience, Draco wasn't so far gone that he couldn't reclaim his soul. He made his decision.

"Lead the way", he said. Draco turned to head towards the Room of Requirement. Harry hoped that it would be empty by now, otherwise, it wouldn't work. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances: neither of them liked having to trust Draco, but neither said anything.

"What I don't understand, is why?", Harry asked.

Draco stopped: "You have no idea what it's like", he said as he looked from one to the other. "No idea... I grew up hearing about what a great man the Dark Lord was. Of how proud Father was to have served, to have been chosen to receive his Mark. The stories he told of his days with the Death Eaters. How overjoyed he was when his Mark burned... Then he came to live with us. Father was bursting with pride, that the Dark Lord had picked Malfoy Manor as his base of operations.

He came, and almost from the very beginning... The way he treated Mother, Father, me... Aunt Bella worships the very ground he walks on, and still, he humiliated her in front of everyone. For no good reason! You should have seen the hurt in her eyes... He had no call to do that". Harry thought it decidedly odd for anyone to be talking about Bellatrix Lestrange in such terms. "I was _proud_ to do a special favour for the Dark Lord, but he..."

"That day in the bathroom?", Harry recalled coming across Draco, he seemed to be crying. Draco tried to cover it up by throwing a spell at Harry, who returned fire with the Sectumsempra Spell he'd just learned, but knew only that it was "for enemies", but not what it actually did. Draco probably would have died, had Professor Snape not discovered them in time to perform the reverse spell.

"Yeah, right after he threatened to kill all of us if I didn't. You have no idea what it's like... discovering everything, _everything_, you believed is a lie".

Even Ron was beginning to have just a faint feeling of sympathy.

As soon as they'd arrived at the entrance to the Room of Requirement, they felt a tremor, dust was filtering down from the ceiling. The perimeter had collapsed. Much too soon to suit Harry, as they headed into the Room, to make certain it was vacated.

There were just three remaining: Tonks, who had returned at Molly's request, Ginny, and an older lady Harry recognized as Neville's grandmother.

"Where's Neville?", she asked as soon as she saw Harry.

"He's fighting", Harry told her. That was all she needed to hear, as she ran towards the exit, moving faster than he thought possible.

"Naturally", she called back. "Excuse me, I must go and assist him!"

"Tonks? I thought...", Harry began.

"I'm looking after Ginny. Her brothers brought her along, but she's too young. They shouldn't've".

"You _can't_ ask me to sit around Aunt Muriel's while the whole rest of my family is fighting! That's not right!", Ginny protested.

"Your mother said you could stay, but you have to stay here in the room. You're not permitted to get involved", Tonks explained yet again.

"Ginny", Harry began, I need you to leave... There's something we need to find, and we need the room of lost things".

Her face brightened.

"Then come right back", Harry said. "When we're done, _come back_", he ordered, as she ran for the exit, Tonks following.

"Wait up", Ron said, "we've forgotten someone!"

"Who?", Harry started.

"The house elves", Ron explained. "They'd be down by the kitchen. We can't order them to die for us... We don't want any more Dobbies, do we?"

Hermione dropped the basilisk fangs and threw her arms around Ron: "You _do_ understand!", she congratulated. Not too long ago, he probably wouldn't have thought about Hogwart's elves at all.

"Well, I suppose it was bound to happen... between you and Jadin, that it would rub off", he said.

Draco had not the slightest idea as to what they were talking about. He had never heard of S. P. E. W., hardly ever spoke to Hermione or any of the rest of her friends or other Gryffindors. He couldn't recall ever having a conversation with Jadin.

Now that the Room was finally empty, they could let it transform into the hiding place of objects that were never meant to see the light of day. Back in the corridor, there came the sound of an explosion.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The perimeter collapsed as it glowed blood red under the assault coming from behind the tree line. This was what the flighted digimon were waiting for, as the first bursts hit inside the castle walls. Wings beat the air, robes fluttered in the considerable outwash; Deinondramon and Dorugremon rose high above the Astronomy Tower. Eyes on the ground turned skyward, waiting...

The Death Eaters were also waiting for this. The assault was in three waves: across the stone bridge, the covered wooden bridge, and a contingent from Hogsmeade was streaking across Black Lake, using Hogwart's own ferries that brought the First Years from the Hogsmeade railway station.

Sakuyamon stepped over to the stone bridge, slashing the air with her staff: "Crystal Sphere!", she called as the overlapping circles of pink light coalesced into a faintly shimmering sphere looking no more substantial than a soap bubble. She sent it to the approach end of the bridge.

Deinondramon powered up his attack, as the sickle shaped claws began to glow.

"Raptor Slash!", Deinondramon struck first. Thin, twin bows of violet arced earth-ward, disappeared behind the trees just before a bright flash of light, a rush of hot air, and then the sound of a tremendous explosion.

"Metal Meteor!" Dorugremon threw an iron ball, glowing bright red-orange, ten times his own considerable size. It streaked across the sky so fast that it left visual trails. They not only heard it strike the ground, they felt it through their feet.

The faint echos of the screams of the dying reached them through the trees. The first curses streaked skyward in answer. Deinondramon dodged the streaks of green. Dorugremon waved his wings, deflecting them, sending them back whence they came.

Wargreymon had arrived at the jetty, dived into Black Lake. Death Eaters were within a hundred yards of the dock.

"Poseidon Force!", as water swirled up around him, forming a large ball of water that he held high above his head. He swept his hands forward, launching the improbable ball of water. It struck in the midst of the Death Eaters, throwing up a column of water and spray. The boats smashed to toothpicks. A body floated, lifeless, here and there, amidst the wreckage. His work done, he turned his attention towards the castle.

"Terra Force!", Wargreymon produced an orange sphere with a bright yellow center. He threw it at the covered bridge, bringing it down completely. The advancing Death Eaters narrowly avoided a plunge into the valley below. The Death Eaters weren't going to get onto the grounds that way.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"I need to get to Borgin and Burkes", "I need to get to Borgin and Burkes", "I need to get to Borgin and Burkes" Draco paced back and forth in front of the wall. At the third pass, the apparently solid stone wall transformed. The door to the Room of Lost Things appeared.

They entered a room as big as a cathedral. Broken and worn out furniture, boxes and crates, empty bottles, evidence of the misbehaviours of thousands of students who'd long departed from Hogwart's filled the whole area, stacked hither and yon, with no plan, at random, and no catalog.

Ron looked all around: "And he never knew anyone could get in?", he asked, incredulous.

"He thought he was the only one, at least the only one in living memory", Harry explained. "His little secret. Riddle was proud of his accomplishments of discovering Hogwart's secrets, but never considered they weren't quite as secret as he figured".

"Accio diadem!", Hermione waved her wand. Nothing came flying towards them. The Room of Requirement wasn't going to yield up its secrets that easily.

"Let's see...", Draco looked around. "There's the Vanishing Cabinet. I came out here... It was dark", he thought. He closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Then I turned... this way!", he led them down a path through all the piled junk.

"I think this was the pile I tripped over", he explained. "When I saw it. I put it in this odd cabinet... three legs, six sides like a hexagon. It was old, most of the varnish flaked off. One of the glass panes in the doors was cracked... About so high", he indicated about waist high. "It's in a red leather box: very old".

"Where?", Ron asked.

"I... don't remember..."

"Now that we know what we're looking for, spread out", Harry ordered. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco disappeared into the unintentional labyrinth.

Draco remembered better than he realized. He headed between rows of boxes and other junk, towards the cabinet he'd described. He opened the doors, and the box was still there. Inside, the tarnished old diadem still lay on a velvet liner. He'd just taken it out...

"Hello, Draco", he whirled around. Crabbe and Goyle were standing in the path, blocking the way, wands out.

"I thought you two..."

"In all the confusion, we gave Filch the slip...", Crabbe explained.

"You two-faced bastard!", Goyle hissed angrily. "All these years, all those promises of how you would bring us along... the great Draco Malfoy and his faithful friends, going places!"

"We learned the Dis-lusion Charm", Crabbe was explaining. "We heard everything you and Potter said, and we followed you".

"You fools!", Draco shot back. "He took _everything!_ Don't you understand? There's _nothing_ left; the name of Malfoy won't be worth a plugged Newt..."

"Potter, the mudblood, that die-dum, and a traitor: I figure the Dark Lord will show his appreciation when we turn you over to him", Crabbe replied. They were coming closer. "We'll be set up for life".

"We don't need you anymore", Goyle agreed. "I figure we'll do even better with the Dark Lord than we'd ever have done with you".

"Draco, are you talking to someone?", it was Hermione, asking from behind the wall of crates.

"Descendo!", Goyle sent the wall of junk collapsing outwards, towards where they'd heard Hermione.

Draco threw the leather box at Goyle, and threw the diadem up onto a pile next to him. He flew at Crabbe, slamming his fist into his mouth. Hermione appeared, Goyle pointed his wand: "It's that Mudblood! Avada Kadavra!", he attacked as Hermione disappeared back around the corner, the green light missing.

"Finite!", Ron cast the spell that canceled the Descendo spell to stop the wall of crates and boxes from collapsing, trapping, or possible crushing Hermione.

A stream of red barely missed Goyle. Crabbe was up and pursuing Draco: "Crucio!", he fired, hitting a stack of boxes which collapsed.

"Avada Kadavra!", Goyle fired at Ron.

Harry was incensed that Goyle was aiming to kill.

"Draco!", Ron called, as he threw the wand. Draco caught it.

"Expelliarmus!", Harry sent Goyle's wand flying. It rolled under an old wardrobe. As he dived to recover it: "Stupify!", Draco fired at Goyle, who collapsed.

"Where is it?", Harry asked.

"Up there, somewhere", Draco pointed.

"HARRRR-RRRRY!", Hermione called out. There came a rushing sound, and Ron and Crabbe were running for all they were worth. An inferno was right behind them.

"Like it hot, assholes?", Crabbe called as he ran past.

That was a singularly stupid thing to do: setting a fire here in a room filled floor to ceiling with combustibles, and ones that had been drying for decades, even centuries. There was something wrong: this fire spread too quickly, lapping at the sides of piles of junk, turning them to ash within seconds. Whatever Crabbe had done, it was becoming obvious it was completely out of his control.

"RUN!", Harry called out. Being the closest, Draco picked up the unconscious Goyle. The other three ran after where they'd seen Crabbe headed. As they rounded a corner, this fire followed, like it had a conscious intent to hunt them down. If there was any doubt, it was erased as they watched the flames turning into fiery beasts: chimera, serpents, dragons. These shapes rose and fell, and rose again: beasts that played with their food, throwing it to the ceiling and catching it in their mouths, as the inferno consumed in minutes the detritus centuries built up.

It seemed too late, they were surrounded, fiery beasts circling, waiting to strike. Horns, tails, fangs and claws flashed, coming closer, the heat as solid as a wall.

"What do we do?", Hermione called out. Harry looked around, and pulled out four antique brooms from a junk pile. He hoped they still worked. Ron stuck one between Goyle's legs, hoisting him up. He climbed on behind to steady him. Harry, Hermione, and Draco took the other three.

They kicked off, soaring with but a few feet to spare, the jaws of a raptor that snapped at them. Now it was a question of finding the exit, of hoping it was still open. They soared to the ceiling, but thick smoke made visibility difficult. Ron and Hermione were the first ones through. Most of the contents had burned up, and the fiery beasts were playing with the remaining items: cups, shields, a necklace, and an old, tarnished tiara...

"I got it!", Draco called out, as he was the closest. Up it flew, as Draco dived for it. As it curved downwards, it seemed to be falling in slow motion as his Seeker instincts kicked in. He looped it around his wrist, then turned sharply away as a fiery serpent lashed out. The white rectangle of the exit was before him. Harry rolled off to one side as Draco came flying through, too fast to stop, he crashed the broom into the opposite wall.

Harry was helping him to his feet, as Ron slammed the door closed. He looked around, Harry and his friends seemed OK, Hermione was pulling tufts of singed hair from her head, Goyle was laid out, still unconscious, Ron had looked better, face smeared with sticky soot. Only...

"C-crabe?", Draco asked.

"No good, he didn't make it, mate", Ron informed him. "If he hadn't been trying to kill us all, I'd feel sorry he's gone". That was the best Ron could do so far as sympathy, though he knew Crabbe and Goyle had been as loyal to Draco as he'd been to Harry and Hermione for as long as they'd been at Hogwart's.

After a moment's silence, Draco took the diadem from his arm, where he'd been holding it, in the crook of his elbow. It was still warm. As he was handing it over to Harry, he heard a sharp stitch. Looking down, he saw the tiara had cracked. Thermal shock, he wondered? Incredulously, he watched as what looked like blood oozed from the crack. It dripped onto the floor. The diadem vibrated violently, then broke in two, one half hitting the floor with a metallic ping as it bounced a couple of times. Harry thought he heard a faint scream as the diadem broke. Hermione picked up the fallen half, and added it to her beaded bag.

"I didn't...", he began apologetically, as he turned the half he was still holding over to Hermione.

"Don't worry about it, we'll explain later. Right now, you need to get the hell out of here. Get into hiding. If they know...", he glanced at Goyle, "...I don't think they'll be in a forgiving mood", Harry told Draco. Draco knew only too well how Voldemort would take this betrayal. He had another reason: what would happen to his parents if Voldemort found out?

"It must've been FiendFyre", Hermione explained. "It's one of the few things that can destroy... things like that. I wouldn't've used it, very dangerous stuff, hard to control. How did Crabbe know about FiendFyre?"

Draco left, now that he'd delivered what he'd promised. He still didn't know why they wanted that diadem, or why they weren't more upset when they saw it break. Draco was prepared for the blame that never came. Maybe Harry wasn't as bad as he'd been led to believe?

"Must've learned it in the new DADA classes, I guess. Too bad he wasn't paying attention when they got to the lesson about controlling FiendFyre", Ron speculated.

"That leaves just the snake", Hermione said, as they headed towards the main entrance.

"He'll probably be keeping it close. Find him, find the snake..."

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Death Eaters storming the castle didn't see Sakuyamon's Crystal Sphere until it was too late. As soon as they ran into it, they were vapourized instantly in a flash of yellowish-orange. The first ones never knew what hit them, others following close behind couldn't stop themselves that easily.

They wondered what was opposing them, as they knew magic wasn't involved. They would have sensed the presence of a magical barrier. They shot curses at the Crystal Sphere, causing it to glow enough for them to determine its size. Until they could break whatever this was, they were going no farther. As of yet, they were unaware that their assault had been turned back on all fronts.

Mountain trolls and giants began their assault on the walls.

"Stand well back!", Saint Galgomon ordered. The students backed away. When it was clear, he fired his rocket packs, flying across the lawn to meet the intruders. The giant's fighting technique was no match for Saint Galgomon's martial arts skills. The Hogwartians watched, amazed that the cyborg could move with such grace and speed. The giant was pinned to the ground, struggling helplessly beneath the large green foot. Saint Galgomon lifted the giant over his head, and threw him back over the wall.

Valkyrimon had his Fenrir Sword out, one slash, and his opponent's life processes were suspended instantly. He dropped three mountain trolls in as many seconds.

More giants stormed the walls.

"Burst Shot!", Saint Galgomon opened up with all gun ports.

"Terra Force!", Wargreymon threw the sphere at them.

"Metal Meteor!", Dorugremon struck from above.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Harry had a vision. It was more effort _not_ to have them lately, as his scar had been burning for hours now. "He's in the Shrieking Shack", he announced.

"Not fighting?", Ron asked.

"Getting his own hands dirty, not his style", Harry replied.

Along the way, they came across Fred.

"What's the news?", Ron asked his brother.

"So far, so good from those fighting from the towers. The digimon have turned back several attempts to storm the castle. Some mountain trolls broke through the wall, however... So where're you going?"

"Forbidden Forest... any news of Hagrid?"

"None, I don't know if he even knows. If he does, I don't see how he could get in".

At the entrance, their progress was blocked by a monumental foot that came crashing down out of the night. A giant stood in front of the doors, head hidden in shadow above them, hairy shins illuminated by light from the doors. In one fluid motion, it drew back a massive fist, broke out a window, and was trying to grab people inside.

"Hermione, don't!", Ron said as she pulled out her wand. "You stun him, he'll smash half the castle!".

A rush of wind, a loud beat of wings, something looking like a red furry dragon was slashing at the giant with the blade attached to his snout. The giant turned, swatted with a huge hand, and missed as he advanced on the adversary who was backing away from the castle. When Dorugremon had the room to maneuver, the giant roared in agony as Dorugremon's talons sunk into the giant's shoulders.

Harry and the others watched in amazement as the unfamiliar digimon lifted the giant higher than the highest tower, flipped onto his back, and launched the giant with a shove of his hind legs. He thrashed as he fell, roared into the night, desperately trying to claw at the air to arrest his fall. He landed with a delayed thud by the wall. Neck broken, the massive form moved no more.

"C'mon", Hermione urged, as they trotted towards the Forbidden Forest. They were half way there when they felt it: the air froze, their very breathe solidifying in their lungs. Sounds from the battle by the castle faded, as the silence that only Dementors could bring hung heavy in the night. Shapes moved in the dark, swirling, figures of concentrated blackness that seemed to swallow photons, advancing in a great wave on the castle, faces hooded, breathe rattling.

A wave of despair advanced before them. Harry knew the others definitely felt it as much as he.

"C'mon, Harry", he was aware that Hermione was saying something, but it was hard to concentrate... "Patronuses, now!", she was ordering.

Half-heartedly, he lifted his wand. It was as if his soul was already on its way out of his body.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Hit the tower!", the order came from the Death Eaters still pinned down at the stone bridge. They'd seen the spells and curses fired from Hogwart's towers. If they couldn't get through, they could still do some damage, maybe divert the flighted digimon, force them back.

Deinondramon heard with his sensitive digimon hearing: "Dorugremon!", he called out. Dorugremon beat his wings hard, but was still too far out, having joined the fight at the wall. He wasn't going to make it.

Deinondramon dived sharply, just as five bursts of green nearly hit Ravenclaw Tower.

"Impmon! No!", Jadin called out as the curses hit. Deinondramon fell, leaving a trail of data like the rising sparks of a forest fire. He could hear the cheers going up from beyond the bridge and the tree line.

The outline went all fuzzy, then sharp, then fuzzy, as he fell. Just barely conscious, he somehow managed to spread his wings, arrest his fall, just before Impmon hit the ground hard, bounced and rolled. Lying on his back, his outline was still fading in and out. Fortunately, he didn't burst into data.

Luna was the first to arrive by the fallen digimon's side. She lifted the unconscious Impmon: "I'll take him to Madam Pomfrey!", she called out as Jadin was running to meet them. "You go, I'll catch up later", Jadin agreed.

They were using Snape's classroom deep in the dungeons as a makeshift triage area. Unfortunately, it also served as a makeshift morgue.

"What happened?", Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Killing Curse: he took several hits at once", Luna explained.

"Bring him here", Pomfrey indicated an unoccupied bed. "I don't know... I've never treated..."

"If he hasn't disintegrated into data by now, he should be just fine", Luna knew more about digimon than Pomfrey. "I don't know how long it'll be until he recovers. Not the first time this has happened". Luna explained, having been there at the Dept. of Mysteries that night Cyberdramon took a Killing Curse for Dumbledore.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"HARRY! COME ON!", Hermione encouraged.

At least a hundred Dementors were advancing, gliding, sucking their way to Harry's despair, anticipating a great feast. Harry knew they had very little time until the Dementors were on them, ready for the Kiss that would take their souls. He saw Ron's silver terrier bust forth from his wand, flicker twice before expiring. Hermione's otter twisted in mid-air before fading. His wand trembled in his hand; he produced a few faint flickers of silver, but no patronus. He almost welcomed the coming oblivion of not feeling...

"Amethyst Mandala!", a voice called from above.

A female figure hovered about 30 feet above them. Witch, he thought? There was a moment of concern, as she had no visible means of support, and apparently mastered Voldemort's method of self-propelled flight. Could she be one of his Death Eaters? That was not a comforting thought.

Instead of a wand, she slashed at the air with a brass staff, tracing out overlapping circles of pink light, not a patronus, that expanded into the Dementors. Objects looking like rose pedals fluttered to the ground before sparkling and fading. This looked like nothing a witch would do.

The Dementors burst into flame on contact. More and more were flying into the maelstrom. Not having sight or hearing or other normal senses, they didn't understand what was happening. They didn't know the companions they followed were dying as their flaming remains dropped to the ground. Finally they seemed to have figured out that they were in danger, as the survivors made a hasty retreat. The night was mild once again, but the sounds of battle from the castle returned.

The figure landed light on her feet before them: "I am Sakuyamon", she introduced. "Are you OK?"

If they hadn't known that all digimons' names ended in "mon", they would never have known just by appearance. Sakuyamon was tall, over six feet, but otherwise, normal in appearance. Two long platinum blond pony tails hung down her back. Canary yellow body armour over a charcoal gray body suit, purple gauntlets to her elbows, knee high, purple high-heeled boots, the pointed toes and the high heels the same yellow as the armour. Matching purple lipstick. Her helmet in the shape of a fox's head, as was the belt buckle. In her right hand, she held a tall brass staff. The head in the form of a ring around a sitting fox. A pair of three jingly rings at the base, two more at the base of a pointed tip. The bottom sharpened to a point.

"Can't thank you enough, you saved us", Ron said.

"Thanks", Harry and Hermione agreed. There was no more time for conversation. A giant came charging out of the forest.

"RUN!", Hermione called out.

They didn't need to be told twice, as the giant was brandishing a mace longer than a man was tall. The wooden shaft like a utility pole, tipped with a massive spiked ball. Ron risked a look back. The giant took a fierce swing at Sakuyamon; she dodged the massive mace with a graceful ease. She delivered a killing blow to the back of his head with her staff. The giant hit the ground, making no effort to check his fall.

The great tree was just ahead: the willow that protected the secret entrance with whip-like branches. Panting and gasping, they skirted the tree, staying out of reach of the slashing branches, looking for the one knot hole near the roots that acted as an "off switch".

Ron spotted it first. "Wingardium leviosa", he called out and sent a twig flying to hit it. The flaying branches were still at once. The earthy tunnel was concealed among the roots, and it was a tighter fit than the last time they came this way, four years ago. Harry went first, his wand lighting the way. He expected to meet obstacles, but found none. He wondered about that, it seemed too easy, like a trap. At last the tunnel began to slope upwards, and there was a hint of light ahead.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

The Death Eaters finally succeeded in collapsing the Crystal Sphere, and stormed across the bridge. They encountered Hogwart's statues and armour as soon as they were across. Dorugremon could only look on: a Metal Meteor would come down amoung the defenders as well as the Death Eaters. Valkyrimon joined the other Hogwart's defenders, slashing with the Fenrir Sword. Still, they were momentarily overwhelmed. Broken statuary littered the grounds, disembodied arms still waving swords and shields.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Cloak", he requested quietly, and Hermione passed it forward. With difficulty in the tight passage, one handed, it wasn't easy getting it in place. "Nox", he extinguished his wand and crept forward, very careful not to make any noise. He listened very carefully, half expecting to be discovered, to hear that cold clear voice, then a flash of green. Still, he met no obstacles, sensed no detection spells or devices. Was it possible Voldemort didn't know about this passage? Harry doubted that very much, after all, Tom Riddle made it his business to discover Hogwart's secrets while a student.

He heard voices ahead, muffled because it appeared that a crate had been set in front of the entrance into the shack. He crept up as close as he could, peering through a gap between the crate and wall. The room was dimly lit by a single oil lamp. He could see Nagini. She was coiling and twisting like a sea snake inside an enchanted sphere that floated, unsupported. He could hear voices.

"My Lord", it was Lucius Malfoy, "my son...", he was saying, desperate and pleading.

"If your son is dead, Lucius, that is not my fault. He did not come and join me, like the rest of Slytherin House. Perhaps he has decided to throw in with Potter and his friends?"

"No... never", Lucius whispered.

"You must hope not, but I would not be surprised. Your family has let me down. Bellatrix failed to keep my one precious possession safe. You cost me my prophecy, you let Potter slip through your grasp..."

"My Lord..."

"Don't 'My Lord' me Lucius. I am not interested in excuses. I am surrounded by traitors and fools. Severus failed to come when I called. He refuses still, and he failed to inform me about the true capabilities of these digimon. I have lost many good followers tonight. Why should your son be an exception, Lucius?

"My wand, the Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, it does not serve me properly. It does not perform as legend says it must".

"My Lord, you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand".

"No, Lucius, _I_ am extraordinary. The wand is not and has performed no better than my old wand of yew. Either Ollivander was lying, just telling me what he thought I wanted to hear, or I am not the true master of the Elder Wand. Since Severus killed its former owner, he, not I, is its true master. Perhaps Severus has guessed this?"

"Then let me go to him, let me bring him..."

"Don't pretend, Lucius, my old friend, that you have my interests at heart. There is only one reason you want to go to the castle, and we both damn well know what that is. I do not need you to bring Severus, or to seek Potter. _I_ do not have to seek Potter. Before this night is past, Potter will seek _me_. I understand Potter better than anyone; I have studied him closely. His greatest weakness is that he doesn't want to see others fighting on his behalf. He will seek to put an end to it. Severus does not serve me, and he shall be dealt with in my own good time. Now, if you will excuse me..."

Harry heard, then saw, Lucius pass in front of the opening. He could see that Lucius Malfoy still bore the marks of his latest punishment for disappointing his Dark Lord one more time.

Voldemort turned to his pet: "Traitors and incompetent fools: that's what I have left. We shall deal with them soon", he said in Parseltongue.

Harry backed out, the way he came. Back under the Whomping Willow, Harry explained: "He's got the damn thing in some sort of protective bubble. Nothing I could do, and if I'd tried, I doubt I would have succeeded", he explained.

"Waste of time?", Hermione asked.

"There is one thing: he's definitely worried. He was complaining to Lucius about being surrounded by traitors. He knows about Snape, and was very disappointed with Malfoy. If he's that concerned..."

"There _has_ to be a way!", Ron said. "If we don't... he wins? He just keeps coming back and back?"

"I'm not so sure about that. Nagini can't stay in that protective bubble forever. Then we'll eliminate her and Voldemort's last link to immortality". Harry didn't tell them what he was planning right at the moment. He was certain they'd try to talk him out of it, and he wasn't certain that they wouldn't succeed. "He's scared", Harry continued, "he doesn't know if his horcuxes are still safe or not. He doesn't trust his minions, and is just now figuring out Snape isn't on his side. The Elder Wand he stole from Dumbledore's crypt isn't working for him as he hoped. I'd be more worried if he was acting confident. So let's concentrate on giving him a lot more to worry about".

"How? When?", Ron objected.

"I don't know, but we'll find a way", Harry promised. "If he's as worried as I saw, then he knows he's more vulnerable than we figured".

As they headed back towards the castle, they grew concerned: it didn't look as though the battle was going their way any longer. Death Eaters were on the grounds, wand duels were going on between the older students and faculty and Death Eaters who'd advanced onto the grounds. The castle had taken hits, the stained glass windows broken out in several places. Curses were exchanged between the students in the towers, and Death Eaters still concealed at the fringe of the forest.

"This is so not good", Ron stated the obvious.

"Worry about it later; get to the castle first", Harry replied.

A knot of Death Eaters blocked their way: "The Chosen One and his friends", one said behind his mask. "There's someone who's most eager to meet you!", he threatened.

"Spirit Foxes!" The Spirit Foxes wrapped themselves around the trio. They stood there, twitching involuntarily. Thin wisps of smoke appeared, they dropped to the ground: electrocuted where they stood.

"Thanks again, Sakuyamon", Harry waved as they ran past.

They ran up the staircase, some of the balusters had been blasted away. Dust filled the air, fallen debris littered the floors. At the top of the staircase, they met Draco.

"You! Drop the wands!", he ordered, his own wand out and pointing at them. Two Death Eaters appeared behind Draco, wands out.

"Wait!", he called out, as the Death Eaters advanced. "I'm Draco Malfoy! I'm on your side! See who I've caught! Once I turn this bunch over to the Dark Lord, he's sure to forgive Father". The Death Eaters, still tensed, ready for combat hesitated momentarily. Then they relaxed. As soon as their wand tips dipped, Draco whirled: "Stupify!", "Stupify!", Draco dropped them. He lowered his wand.

"You had us worried there a bit", Hermione said. "Thanks again".

"Yeah", Ron agreed.

"I thought you were supposed to be hiding?", Harry asked.

"Where?", Draco asked. "They're in here, where is there to hide? Doesn't matter, Youknowwho will know anyway. Mother... Father... they're probably dead already".

"I hope you're wrong mate", Ron offered. "Don't go giving up hope".

Hermione gave him a sympathy hug: "I'm sure they'll be alright".

Percy was dueling another Death Eater as they came around a far corner. He fired, and the Death Eater lost his mask, as he dodged.

"Hello Mr. Minister", Percy announced. They saw that it was indeed Pius Thicknesse. Percy hit him with another jinx. "Consider this my resignation".

Fred caught up. Thicknesse was in some distress, as he tore at his robes as if they were on fire. He flailed at the air as his form began to change. His entire body was sprouting black spikes, as though he were in the process of transfiguring into a giant sea urchin.

"Good one, Perce!", Fred congratulated, as he began to laugh. Thicknesse was on the ground, he had indeed transformed into a giant and helpless sea urchin.

Suddenly, the outside wall exploded inward. Harry, Percy, and the others were thrown to the floor. Harry felt a warm trickle on his cheek. He reached to his head, his hand coming back red with blood. Nearby, Hermione was moaning, and trying to push herself to her feet. Ron was already getting up.

"No! Dear Merlin no!", they heard Percy call out. They turned. The laughter was still frozen on Fred's face, his eyes wide and starring at nothing. His body crushed under the imploded stones. Harry felt as though kicked in the gut, his own injuries forgotten. Once again, someone to whom he'd been close was suddenly snatched away. Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black, and now his team-mate and long time friend, Fred - gone in an instant.

Ron screamed. An acromantula, one of Aragon's descendants, was climbing through the opening. Harry had no idea as to why the acromantula should be attacking Hogwart's. Perhaps the Death Eaters were using them? Otherwise, they never ventured from Aragon's clearing deep in the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had assured them of this when Ron expressed his concerns after their escape from Aragon's offspring.

"Impedmentia!", Hermione fired at it, sending it tumbling off the wall, taking more down with it. She hurried to the opening: "Crucio!", she fired at the acromantula still clinging to the wall ro drive them back.

"Laser Javelin!", Valkyrimon finished off all of them.

They gathered around Percy, who still hadn't accepted what had just happened. "You can't do anything more for him", Hermione explained.

"No...", Percy sobbed.

"We have to get away from here before more come", Harry explained.

"No..."

"Mate we...", Ron started, then realized what Percy was trying to do. "Help us", Ron asked.

Percy, Ron, Draco, Hermione, and Harry removed broken stone and pulled Fred's body from the rubble. Percy carried him to a now vacant niche and laid his body there for temporary safe-keeping.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Saint Galgomon made his decision. Even though he would repel the giants, it would also breach the wall. Still, it was the only way...

"Giant Bazooka!", he fired the rockets. Clear of the tubes, stabilizing fins popped up; the kitty faces smiled as the warheads armed themselves. The missiles struck, the wall collapsed, giants were thrown like rag dolls. Those who could, retreated, some running, others crawling. They paid no attention to their stricken comrades.

"Crystal Sphere!", Sakuyamon plugged the breech. She knew she'd need to stay close by, to keep the breech plugged, to keep Death Eaters out.

Harry thought about it: the reason why Dumbledore approved of Harry's telling Ron and Hermione everything. They _had_ to know, in case anything happened to him, there would be someone who knew, someone who could carry on. Harry knew there was a chance his plan wouldn't work. If it didn't, then he'd need backup. Someone else he could tell, someone trustworthy, and who could do it: Neville. Neville also had a good reason, as his parents had been taken from him, not physically, but in everything else that mattered. Harry needed to find Neville, this is why he'd insisted on returning to the castle.

"Hold up, Neville", Harry called out. He'd finally located Neville, in the main courtyard.

"What's up?", Neville asked.

"There's something I need you to do if you get the chance. That snake of Voldemort's, he keeps it with him all the time. If you can, you _have_ to kill it..."

"Kill the snake? What for..."

"It's vital that you kill that snake. I don't have time to explain in detail, but there will be no way to defeat Voldemort so long as it lives. You have to kill it".

"Kill the snake, right".

"Then you'll do it?"

"If it's that important..."

"It is".

"Then I'll do it the first change I get".

There was another announcement that seemed to come from everywhere:

"You have fought valiantly", Voldemort's voice rang out. "I give you one hour so that you may attend to your injured and to treat your dead with dignity. If Harry Potter comes to meet me in the Forbidden Forest, then I will extend to all of Hogwart's defenders my forgiveness, and there will be no reprisals for your having resisted me. I do not wish to spill magical blood, and I mean you no further harm.

However, if Potter doesn't come to meet with me, the battle resumes, and will be prosecuted without mercy, and without any second chances. By now, it should be obvious to you that you will not win, and that you have no chance of survival. Furthermore, every member of your families on the outside will be executed. My generosity has its limits, and I do not advise testing those limits. You have one hour. I will be waiting".

"Harry, _surely_ you're not...", Ron began to object.

"Pot-ter: just the one I need to see", it was Professor Snape. "Would you come with me, there is something that you need to see".

"Yes, Professor... What do you have in mind?"

"You'll see soon enough", Snape replied. There was no further conversation. The gargoyle that usually guarded the spiral staircase was missing. Harry had a strange feeling about this: going up to the offices he could never believe belonged to anyone other than Professor Dumbledore. Snape took his place behind the desk.

"Would you bring the pensieve?", Snape requested, and Harry went to the cabinet to retrieve it. This, too, was a sense of _deja vu_, as he'd done this before at Dumbledore's request. As he placed it on the desk, Snape was already extracting memories with his wand. This looked like an electrical arc passing between the wand tip and Snape's temple.

"It isn't easy for me to do this, as what you are about to witness is quite personal. I would appreciate it very much if what you are about to see and hear never leaves this office". Snape was uploading the memories to the pensieve in a form that was neither liquid nor gas, but something quite similar to both.

"I understand, Professor, and I should never have invaded your memories".

"Shall we?", Snape invited, as they entered the memories.

Harry found himself standing on a playground. Two young girls were playing on a swing set nearby, and they seemed to be quite alone.

"Watch this!", one called out as she swung quite high.

"I don't think you should, Lily, remember what Mother said..."

"Is that...", Harry asked.

"You'll see", Snape told him.

As the swing reached its highest point, the girl let go and rose even higher. As the playground was asphalt, she would be falling towards a serious injury. However, she did not. The girl did a back flip, as she descended to a soft landing.

"Mother said you shouldn't..."

"You won't tell? Besides, what she doesn't know can't hurt us".

"I won't tell, you know that. It's just that I don't think you should be doing these things. What if someone sees? What if someone tries to do what you just did? You could hurt yourself!"

They were interrupted by the appearance of a young boy who looked to be their age. He was dressed very strangely, in a coat that looked too large, and under that a shirt that looked more like a smock. It was obvious he wore the coat to conceal the rest of his peculiar attire.

"Oh it's that Snape boy...", Tuney started. "Lives somewhere near Spinner's End with the rest of the white trash".

"Were you spying on us?", Lily accused.

"No... well, maybe, I guess I was spying. I couldn't help but notice", the boy started to explain. "You're a witch", he said.

"That's not a very nice thing to say!", Lily admonished.

"No, really, I'm not insulting you. Haven't you wondered how you can do things the other kids - even your sister - can't? You are! I know because I can do things like that too, I'm a wizard, and you are a witch. We have a lot in common..."

"C'mon, let's get away from that freak", Lily's sister, Petunia, insisted. No one who came from his part of town could ever be up to anything good.

The girls left, as the young boy looked on, disappointed. He'd been planning this moment for weeks now, and it hadn't gone according to plan.

"This was the first time I realized I was not alone", Snape explained. My parents led a reclusive life, and I was terribly sheltered, as you may have gathered".

The scene shifted. It was further into that same summer. Lily Evans and Severus Snape were sitting by a stream. He was no longer a stranger, and there looked to be some friendliness between them.

Severus picked a wild daisy: "Watch this", he said. The flower's petals opened and closed as though it were a sea creature.

"You see, we're not alone. There aren't many of us, I'll be getting a letter from Hogwart's when I'm eleven in about a couple more months. You'll get one too when it's your birthday... or maybe not, seeing that your sister and parents aren't magical. Someone from Hogwart's will come and explain everything to you and your parents".

"What's 'Hogwart's'?", Lily asked.

"You haven't heard of it? It's a school for kids just like us. They'll teach us how to control the magic, and how to do more, better things as well. Once you have your wand, you will be able to do loads more than you can do right now. You won't be allowed to use it outside of Hogwart's, though, as they don't want the muggles..."

"Muggles?", Lily asked, perplexed.

"That's the name for non-magical people..."

"Like Tunie?"

"Not exactly, your sister is a squib - someone from a magical family who doesn't have magical abilities. Squibs know about magic and that magicians exist. They are under the secrecy decrees, and live with and like the muggles, and they keep our secrets... We won't be alone anymore. We won't be 'freaks' anymore. That's what I'm looking forward to more than anything else".

"You aren't just saying that?"

"I swear it's true. You'll see: in your case, someone will probably visit. I expect I'll be getting an owlpost".

"So, Severus, these invites always come when you're eleven?"

"If you're a witch or wizard, they do. Hogwart's keeps track of all the new born magi somehow. That's how they know to send the invitations. You don't have to go, but I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to".

"Are you _sure_ the invite will come?"

"You're already pretty good, so, yes, I'm sure: just wait, you'll see".

"What about Petunia? She doesn't do magic?"

"Just magical kids go to Hogwart's. Don't worry: Petunia and your parents will still be able to send you owlposts, and there are visiting days. It's not like you will be cut off from your sister forever".

"How do you know all this?"

"My mother: she's a witch and she went to Hogwart's. She told me all about it".

"I thought your dad..."

"He's a muggle alright. But he still loves my mother, and being married to a witch, he knows all about it too. He was never opposed to my learning about my being a wizard, and he's all for sending me to Hogwart's".

The scene changed, and it was a few years later.

"Severus", Lily Evans was saying, "I don't think you should be fooling around with that sort of thing".

"What do you mean? James and his friends..."

"Yes, James and his Marauders as they call themselves can be real assholes at times. There's no denying it, and I saw what they did, I was there. I told them off, especially James, and I made it clear that I wanted nothing more to do with him or his friends until they clean up their act. Their new spells don't involve any sort of dark magic. Yours do, and I can't see anything good coming from it. You say you're exploring new areas of magic, but Severus, those are areas best left unexplored! If you want to keep seeing me, I will have to insist that you stop. It's either me or your Slytherin friends".

"I... promise: no more dark magic".

"I'm not so sure if I believe your sincerity. I wish I could... I do like you, but you _have to choose_".

"So what happened?", Harry asked.

"It was a hard choice", Snape explained. "I really didn't see her point of view, and I really thought she was over reacting. I tried to keep my promise, but, in the end, the temptation of the Dark Arts was too powerful. These are things I wouldn't fully understand for years to come".

It was about the time they were taking their OWLs:

"I heard what you said...", Lily accused. She didn't bother to keep the anger concealed.

"Lily, I'm sorry. It's just that James and his friends..."

"_That_ is no excuse, Severus! You called Elizabeth Fontaine a 'mudblood'..."

"You were there, you saw..."

"_No_ excuse! I'm even more of a mudblood than she is. Besides, my sister is a squib. It's hypocritical for you to be saying that about Elizabeth, but making exceptions for me. I warned you: give up the black magic, and you didn't. You made your choice: you and your Death Eater pals and your Dark Lord. I want _no_ part of it, and I want _no_ part of you! That was your choice, and this is mine. I have nothing further to say to you, and I never want to see you again. Goodbye Severus".

"Lily, please!", he begged as Lily walked away, not slowing, not looking back.

A nasty storm was blowing in, as Snape waited for someone on an isolated hilltop. It was night, as Snape paced back and forth. There was a bright flash of lightening, and the thunderclap covered for the apparition.

"What is it this time?", Dumbledore called out, and Snape whirled around, wand at the ready.

"Expelliarmus!", Dumbledore cast the spell that sent Snape's wand flying out of his grasp.

"I need a word in private, if you don't mind", Snape told him.

"Muffliato!", Dumbledore cast the spell, shutting out the sounds of the storm, and the first drops of rain. "What message does Voldemort have for me this time?", he asked, the annoyance clear in his voice.

"No message, I'm here on my own. I need to ask..."

"What could a Death Eater possibly have to say that I would find of any interest?", Dumbledore asked.

"He's gonna kill 'em. You have to help me..."

"Why? Wasn't it you who told the Dark Lord?"

"I didn't know the prophecy referred to Lily! I didn't know he intends to kill her! You have to do something!", Snape pleaded in pure desperation.

"Why don't you ask your Dark Lord to simply spare her life? Let him kill the boy and his father. Surely, he'd do that for a servant as faithful as you have been?"

"I have asked..."

"You disgust me", Dumbledore said, as he made to leave.

"No! Wait! Please!", Snape pleaded desperately.

"If I save Lily Potter for you, what do I get out of it?"

"Anything! I'll give you anything! Help me, please!"

"Anything, Severus? Have you any idea as to just how much it is that you are promising?"

"I don't care! I'll do anything, just save her. Save Lily. Save her son and husband, and whatever you want I'll do it. Please!"

Snape was in Dumbledore's office at Hogwart's. He looked to have aged ten years.

"I thought you were going to save her... them", he said through tears.

"Severus, I am truly sorry for your loss. James placed his trust in someone not worthy of that trust: his classmate and fellow Marauder, Peter Pettigrew. He betrayed them to Voldemort. Before his disappearance, it was he who dropped the Fidelius Charm around their cottage. Hagrid and I couldn't get there in time. I regret our failing more than you could know. However, Hagrid discovered something in the ruins - a survivor".

"What... what are you saying?"

"Lily's son lives, and if you loved her as you say, then you have a responsibility..."

"Lord Voldemort's gone, so what responsibility are you talking about?".

"No, Severus, he isn't. Not completely. You overheard just half of Sybil's prophecy, and I have a good reason to believe that Voldemort will return, and probably before the boy has come of age. So far, he's protected by Lily's sacrifice, but that will not last forever. I have seen to it that Harry Potter has been placed in the care of his Aunt Petunia. Being that they share the same blood, living with his aunt and uncle will carry over that protection. When Harry arrives here at Hogwart's he will leave that protection behind, and here he will become the most vulnerable to whatever attempts Voldemort makes on his life. Harry will need all the protection and assistance we can give him if he is to survive. Will I be able to count on you, Severus?"

"On one condition: that the boy never learns..."

"That he never learns about the best of you? That's most unusual, but if you insist..."

About ten years later:

"Arrogant, self-satisfied, smug know-it-all... As a magician Pot-ter is barely adequate, and he continues to deny it".

"This isn't what I'm hearing from the rest of the faculty. The other teachers speak highly of Harry Potter: he gets along well with the other students, is bright, and gets along with the teachers just fine. Are you sure you aren't letting unpleasant memories of James cloud your judgment, Severus?"

"Just like his father! I can _barely_ deal with him".

"Yet you made a promise".

"Yes, and I will keep it, much as I'd like to forget it. I told you before, I find dealing with kids very difficult".

"And yet you get along with Draco Malfoy. He speaks quite highly of you".

"Draco has natural ability, but he also knows he needs to learn, he knows his limitations and works through them. Pot-ter doesn't. I don't know if I can protect him, though I will do my best to keep him out of trouble".

"I appreciate that you will, but I still believe you're seeing too much of his father in him. Remember: Harry Potter is also the son of Lily Evans".

It was during the ball before the start of the Triwizard Tournament:

"The Dark Mark has been growing stronger", Snape was explaining to Dumbledore as they stood by the doors to the ballroom. "Karkaroff has already gone into hiding, since he turned states' evidence against so many Death Eaters when Youknowwho disappeared".

"Have you been tempted to follow him?", Dumbledore asked.

"I'm not planning on desertion, and I can say I haven't found the prospect tempting. There will be nowhere to run and hide if the Dark Lord returns. Besides, I have a score to settle with Voldemort, and satisfaction in doing my part in bringing him down once and for all".

"I always knew you had more courage than Igor Karkaroff. And you're probably right. I'm sorry, but it looks like the Order of the Phoenix will need you to place your life on the line once more".

"I swore my loyalty and I keep my word".

"Precisely why I trust you".

Snape and Dumbledore were back in the headmaster's office:

"What are you saying?"

"So long as that fragment of Voldemort's soul is still attached to Harry, Voldemort can not die. Neither of them know this, but that night, when Voldemort tried to kill Harry, he split his already mutilated soul once more, and inadvertently made another horcrux: Harry Potter..."

"So what you're basically telling me is that we have been raising up Pot-ter as a sacrificial lamb to be led to slaughter? How can you be so cold-blooded?"

"So you _do_ care for Harry after all? I'm surprised, Severus. Surprised and pleased. Harry must not know this until the time is right. Although he isn't stupid, and either has already figured this out, as he's well aware of that special psychic connection, has inherited some of Voldemort's abilities, such as being able to speak Parseltongue, and, of course, the Sorting Hat almost put him in Slytherin, as it sensed that part of Voldemort's soul. I'm sure he can add it all up, or soon will. The reason I haven't told him is to not weaken his resolve ahead of time. By the time he realizes, he will be well prepared to deal with this knowledge, and know what must be done. I must insist you keep this private. One good indication will be when Voldemort begins to fear for the life of his snake".

Snape was finishing an examination in the office:

"So how much time do I have?", Dumbledore asked.

"Not long, I'm afraid. This particular curse is one that can be arrested for awhile, but with time, it grows stronger. The end will be quite painful, and my potions aren't up to providing relief for much longer".

"I see. As for young Mr. Malfoy, we can not allow him to complete Voldemort's mission. I believe he isn't so badly damaged that he can't be redeemed. That means that he must not be allowed to carry out this assassination. You must be the one who does the assassination, not him. Draco must not be allowed to shatter his soul".

"What of _my_ soul, Albus?"

"Only you know if helping an old man avoid the humiliation of a death in unbearable agony and to save the soul of a misguided youth will harm your soul or not. You are certain of your prognosis?"

"Unfortunately, I am quite certain".

"Then that settles the matter: you must be the one".

"What of my reputation? How will I possibly be able to continue protecting the students if they all think..."

"Not to worry. I intend to inform Impmon of our plans".

"The muggle boy's partner?"

"Who better? Voldemort isn't able to read his thoughts. He will know what to do when the time comes. I've told you before I trust their judgment completely".

Next, Snape was flying with the other Death Eaters. He watched as the man on a broom ahead of him was aiming his wand at the back of a Harry Potter imposter. "Sectumsempra!", Snape fired his spell. He was trying to hit the other Death Eater's wand hand, but missed. He watched in horror as the Harry Potter was struck instead, nearly collapsing off his broom, as his companion tried to keep him from falling. Snape accidentally hit George Weasley, though he didn't know it at the time.

They were back out of the pensieve.

"So now you know the whole story. Professor Dumbledore and I knew the time would come when it was important for you to know as much as possible. There's probably more that we shall never know, as Professor Dumbledore wasn't figuring on passing away when he did".

"So you loved my mother?"

"Very much so, and I still do".

Snape pulled a scrap of paper from a pocket, and handed it to Harry:

_With all my love,_

_Lily Potter_

Harry recognized it, the bottom part of the letter to Sirius he'd found at 12 Grimmauld Place.

"She tried to warn me, and I didn't listen until it was too late. I have always wondered what might have been if I'd done everything differently. Have you never wondered why I selected the form of my patronus?".

"I did wonder, yes, I didn't think it fit your personality... It's the same as my mother's, isn't it?"

"Yes, Lily's patronus was a doe. There were so many things I didn't do right. So much to regret, so many lost opportunities... But that's in the past. I'm not going to try to deceive you: what you do next is very dangerous, and there is a good chance you will not survive.

"By the same token, it is not inevitable by any means. The Professor thinks that when Voldemort used your blood to bring himself back, that a more substantial connection was made between you. His horcruxes just might be protecting you as well as him. Using your blood to steal some of your mother's protection just might have been the Dark Lord's worst miscalculation. Albus always said that his biggest weakness was his indifference to knowledge of areas that don't interest him".

"Neither can live while the other survives", Harry quoted the Prophecy.

"Or neither can die while the other survives; it might be working both ways. It's not 100% certain, but Dumbledore thought so, and I concur. No one can force you, that will have to be your own choice. I'll leave you to consider what your next course of action will be. Regardless of whatever that may be, Godspeed to you Harry".

Harry knew how he should feel: used, deceived, pissed off. He had figured that Dumbledore wasn't telling him the whole story. Now, he was in far too deep to ever get out. Running off, leaving the country, hiding as Aberforth suggested held but vague promise. He knew Voldemort would never stop seeking to destroy him. There was that prophecy which had terrified Voldemort since the day he heard part of it, he'd come seeking his destruction. Harry had destroyed his precious horcruxes, and that was an affront he would never forget or forgive. Karkaroff had made it almost a year, but in the end, he was discovered. Harry knew he would be found out, just a matter of time. He had but little time left, and not much possibility of adding to whatever was left.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Hey, pal, how're you doin'?", Jadin asked Impmon as the emerald eyes fluttered open.

"I feel like shit", he replied. "Where..."

"Madam Pomfrey's, Luna brought you here".

"How long I been out?"

"A couple of hours".

Consciousness was returning. Impmon looked about. Beds were filled with the injured. Madam Pomfrey and her assistants were looking after casualties, administering various potions, casting healing charms. Rows of the dead under white sheets were laid out along the floor, between rows of beds. More were being brought in. Jadin recognized Creevey, the First Year Gryffindor who'd escaped Filch to stay behind and fight with the rest of his House.

Mad Eye Moody was next to him, the "cybernetic" eye whirling uselessly in its socket.

Impmon struggled to get up: "No, you need to rest. You lost a lot of data, and you need to regenerate. You could corrupt _all_ your data if you try to fight too soon", Jadin warned.

"I _can't_ just lie here", he protested. "Not when so many are in greater need. Not after...", he glanced at the growing row of bodies, "...so many gave so much". He tried to get up. His head swam, he collapsed back into the bed.

"Your need is as great as anyone's. You did as much as anyone could ask. You saved Ravenclaw Tower, and who knows how many of our House-mates".

"It's just I don't like getting knocked out of the fight so soon".

"You bought us all more time to keep fighting; you have nothing to regret. We're all proud of you", Jadin reassured. "Right now, you need to concentrate on regenerating".

"How's the battle coming along?"

"Right now, Voldemort's called a truce. He wants Harry. Three other digimon are still in action. Without them, Hogwart's would have fallen by now".

"The other Mentors?"

"McGonagall's keeping them safe".

Impmon wasn't alone: Hawkmon, tended to by his partner, was also there, and for the same reason. Valkyrimon had been surrounded, overwhelmed, and hit with multiple Killing Curses. But not before taking out over a dozen Death Eaters in the process.

The Weasley's were arriving. Molly knelt by Fred, weeping as Arthur stood by, caressing her hair. Ron, Percy, George, Ginny, Charlie stood by. Impmon looked away; he still wasn't sure how to react to grief.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

"Jadin!", it was Hermione, "thank _Merlin_ I found you! I think Harry's..."

"What did that damn fool kid do this time?", Jadin asked.

"He went off with Snape when we heard Voldemort's ultimatum, and I haven't seen him since. You don't suppose he actually..."

"DORUGREMON!", Jadin called out.

"Yes?", the furry dragon asked as he landed.

"You're the most familiar with Harry's data. We need to find him before he does something extremely stupid. He'll probably be under cover...", Hermione explained.

"Then let's go", Dorugremon agreed, as Jadin helped Hermione up and climbed onto his back.

It was not easy to die at seventeen. However, there was no escaping it: he had been marked for this moment since that day. There was no fairness to the whole situation from the get-go. He was well aware of his racing heart, as though it was trying to get in all its allocated beats of a lifetime.

Delaying would make it worse. He slipped the invisibility cloak on so that no one would see him leave, and try to talk him out of it. He was afraid they just might be successful. He picked his way through the corridors, avoiding contact, and confrontations. Through the main doors, he headed for the Forbidden Forest. Where to go, he hadn't a clue. Voldemort had said he would come, and he figured he would have made arrangements for his arrival. He sensed Dementors, and headed in that direction.

Harry paused to take out Dumbledore's bequest: the Golden Snitch. So far, it had refused to give up what was concealed within. Useless, there had been occasions when he'd considered throwing it away. All it would reveal was that enigmatic message: "I open at the close". Now he understood its meaning.

"I am about to die", he told it as he touched it to his lips. He'd guessed right: it opened, revealing the black Resurrection Stone...

"Like _hell_ you are!", Jadin told him as he leaped from Dorugremon's back. Dorugremon landed, and Hermione stood by Jadin's side.

"We can't let you do this", she said.

"Jadin, Hermione... You can't...", Harry started, but Dorugremon grabbed onto him through the Cloak. "Let go of me!", he demanded. "Get your bloody paws off me!"

"Sorry, Harry, no can do", Dorugremon said. "Maybe we were never partners, but I care for you like a partner".

"Might as well take that Cloak off, you're not going anywhere", Jadin told him.

If he were to be released from the grip of the digimon dragon, he knew he had no other choice. "Alright, alright" Dorugremon released his grip. Harry pulled off the Cloak.

"You can't interfere...", Harry knew the digimon would never allow his escape, so he didn't try.

"That's _suicide,_ and we both damn well know it. I said it before: you have a martyr complex, but I _never _thought in my wildest imagination it would go this far. I can't let you... not in good conscience", Jadin told him.

"If I don't go, then more will die! Enough have died already because of me! Don't you get that? How can I live with myself knowing that?"

"You _can't_ know that for sure. You're just gonna take Voldemort at his word? Do you _really_ think that asshole is going to call off his attack once he gets what he wants?! It never occurred to you that he'll murder our families anyway? That he'll just let this act of defiance go unpunished? When has he ever?", Hermione objected.

"Harry, your professor has been using you all along. Impmon tried telling me a long time ago, and I didn't listen to him, when he told me Dumbledore was a duplicitous bastard. He was right about that, and a better judge of character than I. Harry: he's been raising you like a lamb led to the slaughter. He's been conning you, and you are not responsible for anyone but yourself. Mad Eye, Creevey, Fred: no one forced them; they went in with eyes wide open, knowing the chances they were taking. Their blood is on Voldemort's hands, not yours".

Harry started to turn away...

"You are going to listen to what I have to say!", Jadin pulled him back. "He's a _user_. He never gave a_ rat's ass _about you! Why do you think he left you in that terrible situation with your aunt and uncle? _Why_ didn't Dumbledore ever lift a finger to try to make them stop making your entire life a living hell? Where was he all those years? _Where was he?!"_

"Godric's Hollow: you said that Dumbledore never once mentioned that you and he had the same roots. Didn't that strike you as odd? You wondered why he never escorted you to visit your parents' graves, haven't you? Harry, that's the last thing he would ever want! He didn't want that bond between you because he knew it would make it that much more difficult to sacrifice you when he knew it was time.

"Harry, he never changed", Hermione told him. "He fooled everyone into believing he did, but he didn't. He was always a Dark Lord wannabe, he never stopped being a disciple of Grindelwald. He has always lived by Grindelwald's twisted philosophy: 'For the Greater Good' - the ends justify the means. He has always lived by that.

"Rita Skeeter was right about Dumbledore – everything she wrote, _everything_, was the straight up truth. I realize that now. I know it's painful to hear it, but it's true. It's _all _true, Harry. Don't feel bad, he fooled me too... he fooled _all _of us. Please, don't throw your life away for Dumbledore's lies".

Harry really had no argument, as he suspected the same things. Hearing Jadin and Hermione put it thusly brought back all the doubts he thought he'd laid to rest with Dobby.

"The Prophecy...", Harry objected.

"_T'hell with that prophecy!_ Didn't it ever occur to you that changing what you do today based on what you think is going to happen in the future makes that prophecy self-fulfilling? How did you get that scar? Why did your parents have to die? Voldemort was stupid enough to believe the damn thing! _He _tuned you into 'The Chosen One', marked as the one destined to destroy him. If he had ignored it, you'd be just plain Harry Potter: Gryffindor from Godric's Hollow. Your mother and father still alive and well and looking forward to your graduation. Dumbledore would be your Headmaster who just happened to grow up in the same town you did. Voldemort probably wouldn't know you or even care if he did. He made his problems for himself because he _acted_ on that prophecy. There's no reason you have to make the same mistake", Jadin told him.

"Well...", Harry began: it hadn't occurred to him at all.

_The Forbidden Forest_

"You hear sumpin?", one Death Eater was asking another.

"Dint hear nuttin'".

"Guess he ain't comin'. Bess we git back ter tell thuh Dark Lord".

"T'ain't commen", one Death Eater announced as he stepped into the circle of light. Voldemort had set up a temporary base camp in the clearing that Aragon had claimed for himself and his family. "Hour's almost up", he announced unnecessarily.

"I was _certain_ he'd come", Voldemort replied. "I seem to have been mistaken. Oh well, they had their chance".

_Hogwart's_

The hour was up. An army of giants, mountain trolls, and renegade centaurs broke through the walls and began their charge. Pounding feet sounded like distant thunder, the air filled with blood curdling war cries...

Now that it was too late, Harry had no need to seek Voldemort. He, Jadin, Hermione, and Dorugremon headed back to the castle.

There was a stroke of lightening, but red and unlike any lightening they'd seen before. Above, black clouds had formed a vortex like a thunderhead about to spawn a massive tornado. There was a red glow bright enough to illuminate the grounds; something was taking shape...

"Fawkes!", someone called out, pointing skyward.

"Fawkes is back!", another agreed.

"Dumbledore's returned!"

Hogwartians called back and forth, hope renewed, as it looked like they would be spared from certain defeat.

"NO!", Jadin called out, "not Fawkes", he announced, "Zhuqiaomon, one of the Holy Beasts. He came; he finally decided to help!"

Zhuqiaomon spread his four wings wide. Bright yellow orbs appeared at the wing tips, turning night into day.

"Blazing Helix!", he swept his wings forward, launching the fiery braids earthward. The attack struck the ground, rolling forward, burning Hogwart's expansive lawn brown and black. Voldemort's attacking forces were incinerated where they stood. Flesh burned from bone which collapsed into piles of ash. It occurred to Hermione that this looked a lot like FiendFyre. She wondered if the whole Forbidden Forest was about to go up in flames.

Killing curses flew up at Zhuqiaomon, but to no effect as his shield deflected these attacks. Zhuqiaomon turned his attention on his assailants as he dived: "Phoenix Fire!", as he opened his jaws wide, sending the fireball into the group of a half dozen Death Eaters.

Lights, like bright stars, filled the sky. Zhuqiaomon wasn't alone. Digimon, all Megas, were arriving by the hundreds.

"Wendimon... Cerberumon... Hippogryphonmon", Jadin identified the new arrivals. They spread out, into the Forbidden Forest, as the hippogryphonmon provided air support.

Zhuqiaomon landed in the courtyard: "Jadinweston"

"Your Majesty", he said as he knelt.

"My Lord", the partnered digimon knelt, but for Dorugremon who couldn't kneel, being a quadruped.

"Rise", Zhuqiaomon commanded. "You – none of you – kneel before anyone ever again. You have held high the standard of the Digimon Code of Honour, and distinguished yourselves as digimon warriors".

"Thank you, My Lord", Saint Galgomon, Sakuyamon, and Dorugremon replied. Their partners were joining them.

"Jadinweston, you were with a partner?"

"Impmon was injured, but Madam Pomfrey is looking after him. He saved our house mates when Ravenclaw Tower was attacked".

"You should be proud to have such a partner. And the others who were with you?"

"Remus Lupin was hurt pretty bad, but he'll pull through, get to meet his son. Tonks is OK, and she was looking after Ginny. We lost Mad Eye, Fred Weasley, Colin Creevey, a First Year who shouldn't've been here... too many others".

"Accept my condolences for your loss. This Colincreevey, why shouldn't he have been here?"

"He was just a boy of eleven. He wasn't supposed to fight, but he wouldn't abandon his house-mates".

"The Digital World will never forget what you have done for us this night. So long as there are digimon to remember, your heroic fallen shall never be forgotten. This, I swear to you".

"Thank you, Your Majesty... for everything"

"No, Jadinweston, it is I who should be thanking you. You, all of you, have given me pause to reconsider my disapproval of this Outworld emigration, and digimon and Outworlders making partnerships. May I share your thoughts?", Zhuqiaomon asked of the partnered digimon.

"Yes, My Lord", they agreed. Zhuqiaomon loaded copies of the data.

"I see... who is the Outworlder who calls himself Harrypotter?"

"I'm Harry", as he stepped forward.

"You were willing to sacrifice yourself for your friends?"

"I was, but Jadin stopped me. I was ready to meet Voldemort to stop the fighting and dying. Then it was too late".

"Your courage matches that of the best digimon warriors", Zhuqiaomon congratulated. "I am pleased that was not necessary... You seem different from the other Outworlders".

"Your Majesty?"

"You harbor a corrupted digicore in addition to your own. I shall remove it".

"You can do that?"

"I can, with your permission".

"By all means", Harry agreed.

The red light surrounded Harry. It looked uncomfortably like that time Zhuqiaomon "digivolved" Lupin. However, this time, Harry looked to be in no distress. Harry seemed to "phase out" for just an instant. The light faded.

The first thing Harry noticed was that the scar stopped burning. He reached up to touch it, it was still there, but now, just a long healed wound from a long ago battle. He remembered speaking Parseltongue, but now couldn't recall even so much as a single word of that language. The visions were over.

"How did you acquire such a corrupted digicore?", Zhuqiaomon asked.

"It's a long story, Your Majesty, I'm just glad it's gone. I had it all my life. That's one thing we weren't able to do, get rid of it without killing me in the process. What happened to it?"

"I deleted it".

"Where did it go?"

"To that place where all discarded data goes: into dust packets. It will never bother you or anyone else ever again".

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for that, and for everything you've done for us".

"It is the least I can do".

_Forbidden Forest_

Voldemort was growing uneasy. The hour was up, Harry Potter failed to present himself, the battle should have resumed. Even from here, he should have heard something by now, but no sounds of battle filtered through the trees.

Suddenly, one of his Death Eaters pointed skyward. His eyes followed. Dark shapes were flying overhead. Dementors? That wasn't right. Hagrid's Hippogriphys? They looked like it.

He turned suddenly. Did he just catch a glimpse of something moving through the forest?

The speedy cerberumon were flanking. The wendimon would launch the frontal attack.

Voldemort grabbed his head. The hippogryphonmon were attacking with their sonic weapon.

"Hellfire!", the cerberumon hit from the flanks, as the wendimon began their frontal assault.

"Avada Kadavra!", the Death Eaters stuck down some, but were quickly disabled from the hippogryphonmon providing air support. Bursts of green and flashes of Hellfire streaked through the forest. Forest creatures added their calls to the din of curses, shouted orders, and screams of the dying, as they fled the scene of the battles that disturbed their peace.

Voldemort's forces were breaking up. Individual duels between Death Eaters and digimon, or small groups, among the trees. It had quickly become a matter of cat and mouse.

"My Lord", it was Yaxley, "our forces are surrounded. We need to withdraw..."

"NEVER! Avada Kadavra!", Yaxley dropped at Voldemort's feet. "Cowards and fools that betray me!"

"Avada Kadavra!", he attacked another preparing to disapparate. "Come back, you cowards! Come back!"

More flashes of light, more pops, his forces were deserting.

"Bella!"

"Yes, My Lord"

"Bring that oaf. We're not thought just yet. I knew we'd find a use for the big fat slob".

"Yes, My Lord"

_Hogwart's_

"STOP OR HE DIES!", Voldemort called out at the stone bridge, his voice magically amplified.

Neville turned and ran for the castle. Hogwartians and Death Eaters suspended their duels.

"Hagrid!", Harry called out. Voldemort was using him as a human shield, as he was under the Body Bind Curse, and levitated by Bellatrix.

"Doan mine me, Harry!", he called back. "Doan mine me!"

"Silence!", Voldemort cast the silencing spell, "not another word from you. Call off your digi-pets now or I swear by Merlin I will kill him. DROP YOUR WANDS!"

"Harry, don't", Jadin told him as he'd seen Harry's wand tip waver. "OK, then, go ahead and kill him if you think that's the right thing to do", he called back. Hagrid looked surprised and shocked to hear this.

"_Jadin!_", Hermione gasped.

"A hundred curses'll cut you down before Hagrid's body hits the ground and we both know it. You live so long as Hagrid lives, and no longer", Jadin continued. "Keep your wands on him!", Jadin ordered. Wand tips rose back up.

Wand tips followed Voldemort as he crossed the bridge onto the courtyard.

"It would seem we have a stand-off here", Voldemort said.

Neville ran into the Headmaster's offices. There, on a high shelf, was what he was looking for: the Sorting Hat. He dragged over a chair to reach the top shelf.

"I need Gryffindor's Sword", he told it.

"Only a worthy Gryffindor may wield the sword of Godric Gryffindor", the Hat replied. "Are you a worthy Gryffindor?"

"I am. I need the Sword to save our school and all our friends. I need the Sword to keep a promise. It's the only way".

He reached inside the Hat and felt the cool hilt. He pulled the Sword from the Hat.

_The Courtyard_

"So, Harry Potter, what's it to be? Your life for Hagrid's?", Voldemort asked. They knew Voldemort wasn't out of aces just yet. The "ace" was Nagini, still inside her protective sphere.

("Get ready") Jadin whispered to Hermione. He'd seen, and he had to hope no one noticed his noticing. Her wand tip shifted subtly, from Voldemort to Hagrid.

There was a ping of jingly rings as Sakuyamon landed behind Voldemort and struck the ground with her staff.

"Now!"

"Levicorpus!"

"Spirit Foxes!"

The red, blue, and green Spirit Foxes appeared from behind Sakuyamon with a ghostly yipping. They flew so fast, Voldemort couldn't react. They wrapped themselves around Voldemort and Nagini. He screamed with rage as he was shocked and burned; he twitched and jerked. The protective sphere burst, and Nagini spilled out.

She reared to strike. Neville took a mighty swing: Nagini's body thudded to the ground, a dark pool slowly forming around the severed neck. The head and about a foot of neck flew up, turned end-over-end. It looked quite comical, and Neville would have laughed under different circumstances. The head lay on its side, the massive jaws open and closed twice. The third time, the jaws opened, and the head lay still.

Death Eaters and Hogawartians alike all ran for the castle as the thundering herd of wendimon charged the grounds. Voldemort and Bellatrix were swept along.

"It is over", Zhuqiaomon called out. "You have done well". Cerberumon next appeared from the surrounding forest; hippogryphonmon landed on the lawn. They were with comrades who'd taken Killing Curses and devolved to Rookies. A celebratory cheer split the night, before the white light of the massive digital field nearly blinded dark adapted eyes as they returned to the Digital World.

"Gidmedown!", Hagrid called out, the Body Bind and Silencing curses lifted for some reason.

Hagrid collapsed in a heap as Hermione released the spell, and slowly stood up.

"Thah whirr a close caw", he said. "Ah thaw ah wuzuh gonner, fir shir", he said.

"Jadinweston", Zhuqiaomon said.

"Your Majesty"

"Let us hope to meet again soon and under better circumstances", he said as he spread his wings. "Farewell Digimon Mentors", he called out as he flew towards the still swirling black clouds. "Farewell champions of Hogwart's", as he disappeared from view.

Harry headed for the castle, towards the Great Hall. Wand duels were being fought. Suddenly, the servant's entrance burst open. A now sober Winky was leading Hogwart's house elves, who were armed with kitchen knives and the other tools of their trade.

"Dobby is dead because of them!", she called out. "Avenge Dobby!"

"This one's for Dobby!", she took a swing with a meat cleaver, neatly cutting off half a Death Eater's foot. He went down, and house elves piled on. Knives flashed and came up dripping with blood.

The Death Eaters couldn't attack their diminutive assailants without cursing off their own feet.

Hagrid waded into the crowd. He picked up the nearest Death Eater by the scruff of the neck, and hurled him into the wall with such force it was highly unlikely he'd ever get up.

Molly and Bellatrix were going at one another: "Back off!", Molly admonished her son, George, "she's mine!"

"What is to become of what's left of your children when they're left without a mother!", Bella taunted. She fired, and Molly ducked.

"You'll not harm any more of my kids!", Molly replied as she fired off a curse of her own. Bellatrix dodged.

Harry spotted Narcissa and Lucius: neither of whom were fighting, nor showing any interest in joining with the rest of the Death Eaters. Their only concern was to find Draco. Harry hoped he'd had enough sense to stay out of sight. He didn't fire at them.

Bellatrix struck Molly with a curse. Molly didn't duck quite fast enough, and was grazed, falling to the floor. Bellatrix made the same mistake Sirius made: she paused to gloat before claiming her victory.

Molly sat up; Bellatrix's eyes rolled back into her head as the Killing Curse struck. She fell backwards. Voldemort arrived just in time to see his most dedicated servant fall.

The fighting ceased, the others made way, as Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort faced off. Both with wands out, circling, waiting to see who'd make the first move.

"You cheated the Killing Curse once, ehh Potter?", Voldemort said. "Think you can do it again?", he taunted.

"You can thank my mother for that, Tom..."

"How _dare_ you call me by that name!"

"Why not? It's your name isn't it? Tom Marvolo Riddle: the name a loving mother bestowed on her son with her dying wish".

"My mother was a weakling! She didn't have what it takes to survive; she was a magician and let herself die like a worthless muggle! And that name belonged to that filthy muggle that destroyed her!"

"You just don't get it, do you? Your mother was the strong one: strong enough to survive a half insane father and a lunatic of a brother. She had strength enough to hold her family together under the worst circumstances, and strength enough to chance a relationship with a man she loved. No, Tom, _you_ are the weak one, and you always have been".

"What bullshit is this..."

"Is it 'bullshit'? Really? You relied on magic instead of getting along with the other children in the orphanage. Did they have your advantage? Did they have a Professor Dumbledore to bring them to Hogwart's, mentor them, bring them into a community where they belonged? How is it that those other kids survived a circumstance as dire as yours while being the very muggles you think are so far beneath you? How is that possible? Have you ever asked yourself that question?"

"Why should I? So they went on to live their meaningless, pathetic muggle lives while I went on to accomplish things they could never dream of".

"What have you accomplished other than bring misery into every life you have ever touched? What you call 'meaningless' and 'pathetic' makes every muggle look like a hero in comparison. They live clean, honest lives, and make, even if not spectacular, livings. They love and bring children who feel loved and wanted into the world, all the while asking for no special credit or recognition. Compared to you, they are _heroes_".

"_I_ bested your precious Professor Dumbledore. You think love is strength? Is that what you learned from that old fool? What good did that do him? What good did it do your parents? They didn't even put up a fight as I took their worthless lives. Think it'll save _you_?"

Harry noticed Renamon, Dorugamon and Terriermon and their partners enter the hall. That they devolved meant there was no longer a threat outside.

"No, Tom, you didn't. Professor Dumbledore sacrificed himself to save Draco from your corruption. You didn't best him. Dumbledore was, and remains, ten times the wizard you'll ever be even if you live another thousand years. You just won't learn. Where are your dedicated followers now? Why aren't they coming to help you? You demand love you do not earn, just like you did in the graveyard. You even said it yourself: Wormtail acted out of fear, not love. That's all you do: inspire fear, not love and loyalty. You wore out your welcome a long time ago, and you just can't see it. Tell me, why aren't your spells working anymore?"

"Snape still lives..."

"No. Tom, he isn't the master of the Elder Wand, and he never was..."

"He killed Dumbledore!"

"Before he did that, Draco disarmed the Professor involuntarily. I was there, I saw it happen. That made him, not Professor Snape, the wand's true master, even though he never laid a finger on it, even if he never took physical possession. During a fight at Malfoy Manor, I disarmed Draco. That makes me, not you, the true master of the Elder Wand. I ask you once again: why aren't your spells working? How is it that Hagrid broke your Body Bind Curse? Why haven't you been able to silence the rest of the students?"

Harry waited. "You fancy yourself to be the greatest wizard of the century, so how come even simple spells aren't working for you?"

Harry waited some more: "You were right about one thing, Tom, I _wasn't_ willing to see my friends die for me. I would have come to you, but Jadin and Hermione stopped me".

"What bullshit are you talking boy!"

"Not bullshit. I survived your Killing Curse because of you. That night, when you murdered James and Lily, you left behind another fragment of your soul. That fragment attached itself to the only living thing it could find: me. Yes, Tom, _I_ was the last horcrux. Too bad for you, though, Zhuqiaomon deleted that one last bit of your soul. Your links to immortality are gone now. Tom, try to feel some remorse. It's the only way to save yourself, to find peace at last".

The Great Hall flooded with light, as the leading edge of the rising sun reached the windows.

"That's why I had that gateway into your soul, why I had some of your abilities, such as understanding Parseltongue, why the Sorting Hat nearly placed me in Slytherin. That was the last half of Sybil's prophecy. That's why I'm still here. Tom, I ask you again: try to feel sorry for what you've done. Save what's left of your soul before it's too late".

Harry sensed that the conversation had ended, as he and Voldemort continued circling.

"Avada Kadavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The two spells collided between the two combatants with a crackle and a flash of light. Harry caught the Elder Wand. Voldemort stood there, seemingly unaffected, until he tipped backwards, crashing to the floor. Lord Voldemort was finally dead, once and for all.

Cheers and celebration followed as the realization swept the Great Hall. Death Eaters fled, ahead of the inevitable arrival of the aurors. With Voldemort gone, his Imperious Curses automatically lifted. Minds cleared at the Ministry, and elsewhere. Orders went out to immediately release all innocent political prisoners from Azkaban; honest aurors who'd resisted corruption moved swiftly against Voldemort's men.

Voldemort's carcass was moved to a utility closet, rather than have its presence defile the honoured dead down in the dungeons.

Harry felt anti-climactic and dog tired. He wanted nothing more than to retreat to his bed in the Gryffindor dorm, but knew that wasn't going to happen.

Students, faculty, muggles, digimon sat around the tables, this time ignoring House seatings or protocol: all equal, all distinctions erased. Winky led her house elves to the kitchens to whip up breakfast. The presentation wasn't up to Hogwart's usual standards, being on such short notice, but nobody cared.

The doors opened: "Jadin! Impmon!"

"Jadin wanted me to stay with Madam Pomfrey, but I insisted", he explained. Hawkmon and Yvonne followed on.

"We saw you get hit, I thought you were a goner".

"Takes more than a Dark Lord to hold a good digimon down", Impmon replied. "Isn't that right, Hawkmon?"

"I have no disagreement with that", he replied.

The students and faculty had lots of questions for the digimon and their partners. What's life like in the Digital World? Where is the Digital World? How does it feel to digivolve? What is digivolution? Why did they come to the Material World? Why did they come to Hogwart's? What will they do now?

Likewise, the digimon had plenty of questions of their own: What is magic? Why can't everyone do it? What's it like living secret lives amidst muggles? Why don't they like technology? How do they manage to live without it? Why aren't house elves and other, non-human magical beings treated better? Would they treat digimon as lessers?

"Mom! Dad!", Draco Malfoy had finally met up with his parents.

"Son, Draco, you're alright", Lucius swept him up in a big hug.

"I was so terribly worried about you", Narcissa agreed. "When you didn't come, I thought something horrible had happened..."

"Mum, they treated me well. I didn't come because I didn't want everyone to think all Slytherins were cowards and traitors".

"Son?", Lucius asked, "Are you saying...?"

"Yes, Father. I've had quite enough of that asshole, the way he treated you, me, everyone. I helped Potter and his friends. There! I said it! And I'm not the least bit sorry".

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, and the red-robed auror Jadin recognized from the Ministry, Williamson, were also arriving, and in their official capacities.

"Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy: by the authority of acting Minister of Magic, Pius Thicknesse, you are to be taken into custody..."

"Wait!", Harry, Hermione, Ron came up to them. "You can't..."

"What're you on about?", Kingsley asked.

"Draco helped us", he turned to Hermione: "Show them", he asked. Hermione dug deep into her beaded purse, and withdrew the pieces of Ravenclaw's Diadem.

"Without Draco's help, I don't know how we'd ever have discovered its whereabouts".

"And this is?", Tonks asked.

"The Lost Diadem, one of Voldemort's horcruxes. If we hadn't destroyed it, we couldn't have defeated Voldemort".

"Draco saved our lives. He tricked some Death Eaters into believing he was on their side, and that we were his prisoners. Fortunately, they believed him". Ron added.

"They can tell it to the Wizengamot", Williamson replied. "I'm sure they can use a few good character witnesses".

"Kingsley? Tonks?", Harry started.

Pius Thicknesse was back to normal, physically and mentally: "I figured you Malfoys would be looking for a nice rock to hide under. Thanks for making our jobs that much easier..."

"Mr. Minister, please, don't let this happen", Harry pleaded.

"Harry, I thought you'd be the last person to defend this bunch".

Harry, Ron and Hermione went through the whole story again.

"It's highly irregular... _highly_ irregular indeed. But seeing how it's a special occasion, and it's Harry Potter himself making the request, I can see my way clear to grant at least some of his request. Narcissa, Draco: I declare an unconditional pardon for you in this, or any other, crimes and/or accusations that may arise from this latest Voldemort business".

"Thank you...", Narcissa started.

"Don't thank me just yet. I haven't finished. Lucius, you, on the other hand, shall be taken to Azkaban, to be held over for trial. I can forgive Draco and Narcissa, but I can not forgive you. Justice will prevail".

"No!", Narcissa said.

"Father!"

"Wait!", Lucius called out. "My family: who will take care of them now? We lost everything!"

"Should have though of that before", Williamson wasn't the least bit sympathetic. "Just be thankful the Minister is in a forgiving mood. Maybe, if you get real lucky, you can be out in a few years".

"Draco can enroll at my high school", Jadin offered.

_"What?"_, Lucius asked, incredulous.

"Why not? Muggles aren't going to care about the Malfoy reputation. Draco could make a perfectly decent life. Remus Lupin did, didn't he?", he asked Tonks.

"That he did", she agreed.

"But I don't know anything...", Draco protested.

"I didn't say it was gonna be easy-peasy", Jadin explained. "I'm pretty good at school, and Mom and Dad say I have some natural teaching abilities, I'd be willing to tutor him, get him up to speed".

"You'd do that for us?", Narcissa asked.

"Why not? For all Draco did for us, all he gave up, it's the least I could do".

"I'll consider it", Narcissa replied.

"Cissy! _Surely_ you are not serious?!", Lucius protested.

"Yes, dear, I am".

_Hogwart's: Black Lake_

Jadin, Rita, Terry, Henry, Yvonne, and Aberforth were down by the lake with their digimon, at the place where Hogwart's students often gathered during spring days. It was late morning, early afternoon, and there was the promise that this was going to be a glorious spring day in the Highlands.

Rita was the first to speak up: "It's over. It's _really_ over".

"Yeah, we did it", Dorugamon agreed.

"Aye, we certainly did", Aberforth concurred. "Damnedest thing that ever happened to me, that it is"

"What comes next?", Impmon asked.

"That's a good question. We made a lot of new friends, that's for sure. After this latest cluster-fuck, perhaps we won't have to hide anymore? Too many must've seen - heard - last night's battle. How can you explain away a war? Perhaps it will bring us, all of us, into the open. No more sneaking around, no more double lives, no more need for plausible excuses, for _any_ of us".

"Do you think so?", Henry asked.

"Who knows?"

"Well, all I can say is it's a good day to be alive", Renamon added.

"I quite agree", Hawkmon said.

The digital warp field that was forming came straight out of the Sun, and no one noticed until the announcement.

"ATTENTION ALL DIGIMON... ATTENTION ALL DIGIMON"

The shimmering was hard to see in the morning light, but unmistakable once spotted.

"YOU ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO VACATE THE MATERIAL WORLD AT ONCE. IN DEFERENCE TO YOUR PARTNERS, YOU ARE GRANTED FIVE MINUTES TO SAY YOUR FAREWELLS. BY THE ORDER OF QINGLONGMON: YOU ARE HEREBY RECALLED TO THE DIGITAL WORLD".

No! This _can't_ be happening!", Rita called out.

"What does this mean?", Impmon asked.

"Terriermon!"

"Henry!"

"I figgered it was too good to last", Aberforth said. "You been good company for an old barkeep".

"And you've been the best partner I could have ever wanted. I'll miss you and your cantankerous, no nonsense ways". Dorugamon was the first one through.

"Renamon, no, I don't want to lose you!", Rita said through her tears. "I love you!"

"I'm _sure_ we'll see each other again some day", the anthro-vixen reassured.

"When! Tell me when!", Rita pleaded. Renamon had nothing to say about that, so she swept her partner into a hug. "You've been the big sister I never had", Rita told her.

"I know how you feel: you've been the daughter I never had, or ever will have", Renamon walked down the shimmering path until she disappeared.

"Bye Renamon", Rita said barely above a whisper.

"Henry, moumentai", Terriermon said, as he stepped into the digigate.

"Goodbye Hawkmon"

"I'll miss you Augomon"

Impmon, alone, remained: "Time's almost up", he said.

"Impmon, we promised to be together forever", Jadin complained. He was past caring if the others saw him cry.

"I'll be back someday. I know it hurts now, but it'll get better, you'll see".

"Say 'hi' for me when you get back to your folks. And Kreacher: say 'hi' for me".

"You got it, pal".

The digital field faded from view. The Mentors were left by the shore of Black Lake. It wasn't going to be such a glorious day after all.

Severus had seen everything: "Come, stay with us awhile", he invited everyone to the castle.


	29. After the Battle

**29) After The Battle**

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were surveying the aftermath of the battle night before last. Parts of the stone bridge had been blasted away, leaving dangerous gaps. The lawn Hagrid too so much pride in mostly burned away, the rest trampled. The walls of the castle were pock marked where curses had struck. There were also blast holes. The stained glass windows mostly blown out.

"Think it'll ever be the same again?", Ron asked.

"I don't know", Harry said, "Perhaps... given enough time and effort. Still... I don't think anything will ever be the same". He was thinking of all the lives lost.

"Not for us", Hermione agreed. "As for Hogwart's, the castle has come through quite a lot. Soon, it will fill up with new students who will know what happened only as a legend. I wonder how many will be returning? You coming, Harry?"

"I'll catch up with you later. Some things I need to take care of", Harry replied. He headed towards Hagrid's.

"Harry?", Hagrid answered the knock. "Ah thaw yerd be cummin by".

"I'm just glad you're alright. Being taken by the Dark Lord himself..."

"Aye, I frytenin t'ing it were. Shouldna letum get ter drop on meh. But so's long's ter were dere, Ah knew yerd come t'rough, Harry. Yer an dat wimmin dressed in yeller, who was she inniways? Never seen uh spell quy laik dat?"

"Her name was Sakuyamon. Saved us a couple of times too".

"Another digimon? Ah'll haves ter t'ank er".

"You can't, I'm afraid all the digimon had to leave".

"Where'd dey go?"

"Recalled: to the Digital World".

"Dass inferchinate... How boud uh cuppa herbal tea?"

"Thanks, but not right now. I need to take care of in private, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Aye. Ah shud be specktin ter gouns inniways. Take as long as yer lyke".

Harry fished his broken wand from his mokeskin pouch. The two halves were held together by a single strand of phoenix feather. He set it on the table, and took out the Elder Wand: "Reparo!", he tried the spell.

The two halves snapped together. He flicked the wand, and healthy red sparks flew from the tip, good as new. Only the power of the Master of the Elder Wand could have fixed it. Even Ollivander told him that fixing a broken wand was beyond his considerable skills.

He remembered when Ron tried fixing his broken wand with spell-o-tape. It was this repair that caused the Obliviation spell Gilderoy Lockhart cast in the Chamber of Secrets to preserve his phony reputation and persona to back fire. Lockhart was still in the psych ward of St Mungo's because of that, unable to even recall his own name. Ron had no choice but to replace the broken wand. Harry was more comfortable with his old wand of holly anyway.

He took the Resurrection Stone from his pocket. How much longer it would remain functional was an open question. The Stone cracked when Dumbledore struck the ring with the Sword to break it and free it from that piece of Voldemort's soul trapped within. As he intended to do at the margins of the forest, he turned it three times.

They came, not so substantial as the living, but more solid than ghosts: Lily, James, and Sirius.

"You've become a handsome young man", Lily commented.

"Thanks for saying so, Mum".

"Our only regret was that we weren't there to see you grow up", James added.

"I wish you could have too", Harry agreed. "I got him... last night: Voldemort. Your murderer has finally been brought to justice. You can rest in peace after all these years".

"I hope it wasn't a revenge killing, son", James said.

"It wasn't. He needed to be stopped before he destroyed even more lives. It was the only way. I even tried encouraging him to feel some regret for everything he'd done, a chance to save his soul... He wouldn't take it. I had no other choice".

"Then there's nothing more you could have done", James reassured. "You have nothing to regret".

"You've done us proud", Lily said.

"Sirius, missed you too", Harry said. "We didn't have too long to get reacquainted... Did it hurt?", he asked. He immediately felt foolish for asking so silly a question.

Sirius chuckled: "Dying? Easier than falling asleep. You'll see, but not for a very long time. You have a glorious life ahead of you. Though it would be nice if we could have had more time, I agree with that".

"It's just that... I'm sure there will be children, and grand kids, and it would be nice if you could be there to see..."

"Don't you worry about that", James told him. "We'll always be there with you, even when you can't see us".

"Goes for me too", Sirius agreed.

"Goodbye", Harry could finally say to his parents, "Mum, Dad"

"See you in, oh... about eighty years", Sirius said.

"Goodbye Son, and take care", James said, as he and Lily waved st him.

They faded out. Harry could finally return to his dorm and get that shut-eye. He realized Hermione had been right: he had three very rare and powerful magical artifacts, but they weren't the gifts of Death, only the products of the genius of the Peverell Brothers. He'd reunited all three Deathly Hallows, but didn't see how he'd become any sort of master over death. For now, this would be his personal secret.

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Despite losing his partner, Jadin fell into a dreamless sleep in the Ravenclaw dorms. As soon as he awoke, he was greeted by one of the house elf message runners: "Your presence is requested in Professor Flitwick's office".

"He say why?", he asked through half sleepy eyes.

"All I know is that I was told to bring you to Professor Flitwick as soon as you were awake", the house elf said apologetically. He figured Flitwick wanted to say goodbye, express condolences over the loss of his partner.

"OK, whatever". He pulled on his Ravenclaw robes, and headed for the fifth floor. The signs of the battle still much in evidence, dust still hung in the air, rubble littering the floor. The halls were remarkably vacant, and he figured that desperate parents had been arriving to bring their kids home. Who knows how many academic careers would be derailed? How many families would want to send their kids back to Hogwart's?

Some of the few students he passed stopped to express their condolences over the loss of Impmon. So the boarding school grapevine was as efficient as ever. He knocked lightly at the door.

"Come in Jadin", Flitwick called from inside. So he was expected? As soon as he pushed the door open, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Come in, close the door", he was ordered.

"Tonks? Kingsley?", he asked. Flitwick wasn't alone.

"Jadin", Tonks began to explain, "we're here in our official capacities as aurors...", he wondered what that could possibly mean. "...to be escorted to Azkaban to await proceedings of the Wizengamot..."

"What the _FUCK_ are you talking about?", he couldn't believe he was hearing this. "I didn't do anything!", he protested.

"Ministry orders", Kingsley explained. "The Minister felt it would be for the best if familiar faces handled the matter. However, we _are_ prepared to use whatever force is necessary if should you decide to resist".

One look at Tonks showed him that she was in complete agreement.

"I... I... I... don't understand", Jadin stammered. "My parents... I was expecting to go home later today!"

"You needn't concern yourself over your parents. If you will come along quietly", Kingsley told him.

_"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"_

"You'll find out when you appear before the Wizengamot. Now, if you please".

Jadin had no partner, no magical abilities, and no choice. He went under a Body Bind spell. There was nothing to see through the window of the enchanted, flying carriage. Nothing but endless expanses of the North Sea far below. Until, that is, the black, triangular building rose like a column from the sea, waves crashing around its base: Azkaban, the dead end of all dead ends of the Wizarding World. Damage was still evident, but it was still open for business, unfortunately, and likely filling up fast with Death Eaters, all with a score to settle... Jsdin didn't want to think about that.

Jadin was checked in, escorted to a minimum security area.

"Henry! Rita! Yvonne!", Jadin called to his fellow Mentors.

"Nabbed you too, did they?", Terry said.

"What the fuck?", Jadin started.

"Those whachamacallits - that knocked-up gal and that tall dude showed up out of nowhere. Next thing I know, I'm off to this 'Azkaban' I never heard of", Henry explained.

"The aurors, Tonks and Kingsley?"

"Yeah, that's what they called themselves, yeah, those two. Fine way of showing their gratitude, these friends of yours", he said, somewhat of an accusation.

"I wonder just who the hell my friends really are. Now I understand what Aberforth was talking about: his brother played me - us - like a cheap whorehouse piano. Should have known better... God damn that old son of a bitch".

**0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF**

Jadin had been kept waiting for well over an hour, more or less, he didn't really know. He was sitting on the bench, outside the courtrooms, next to the Dept. of Mysteries. Far above was the lobby where he and Cyberdramon had first faced off with Voldemort. He was wearing the black and white stripped uniform that all prisoners of Azkaban wore.

Finally, the door opened: "Jadin Weston", the bailiff called out.

"That would be me", Jadin replied.

The bailiff motioned, and he followed. The full Wizengamot was in session. The judges seated high above the floor at the bench, the galleries filled to capacity. The judges were wearing anachronistic, medieval robes and powdered wigs, looking all too much like Jadin's visions of the Inquisition.

The bailiff led him down onto the floor: "Sit down", the bailiff ordered. No sooner had he seated himself, than chains wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles.

"We shall now hear the case of Mr. Jadin Weston", the Chief Justice intoned in that officious, imperious manner of all bureaucrats and other self-important apparatchiks and government yes-men.

"I _demand_ you release these chains!", Jadin protested immediately. "We, the Mentors, pull your fat out of the fire, and _this_ is how you thank us? Fucksamatter with you people?"

There were gasps of shock, calls of outrage, from the gallery. The Chief Justice banged the bench top with a heavy paper weight: "Silence!" The gallery fell silent at once.

"Mr. Weston, you are in no position to be making demands. I will remind you to watch the tone and language with which you address this panel or I will put you under a Silencing Charm. Is that understood?"

"Yes", Jadin replied, forcing calm into his voice. "Your Honour", he added as an after thought.

"As to the specifications: trespass, to wit: Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, the wizarding town of Hogsmeade, and the Department of Mysteries. Five counts.

Impersonating a wizard: one count. How do you answer these charges?"

"These charges are absurd. Professor Dumbledore..."

"Is not here to speak for himself, so that is irrelevant. Do you deny being a muggle?"

"That is not a crime..."

"So you admit ignoring warning signs and Muggle Repelling Charms. As to the second charge?"

"I deny it".

"So you deny this is yours?", he held up the scroll Dumbledore gave him.

"If you bothered to look, you will see it was signed by your own Cornelius Fudge when he was Minister of Magic. So, no, why should I deny it's mine?"

"Ex-Minister Fudge is prepared to testify he signed that decree under duress".

Jadin was having a harder time keeping it under control. He shook his head: "No. That isn't true".

"Are you calling the Ex-Minister a liar?", a rather unpleasant witch retorted. There were murmurs coming from the gallery.

"I'm saying, he's mistaken. Professor Dumbledore..."

"Is irrelevant, you were warned once before about bringing the late Albus Dumbledore into your testimony. You won't be warned again. You have no evidence to offer that the signature was not coerced?"

"No... Your Honour".

"It is the ruling of the Wizengamot that all charges be dismissed forthwith, and that an application for full and unconditional pardon be issued by Minister Thickness. In exchange, you shall be Obliviated, your memories reshaped. After you leave this place, you will have only knowledge of having had a pleasant stay as a temporary resident of the UK".

"_You can't do that!_ Jadin protested. "My friends..."

"Your friends can find new friends. Do not think us completely ungrateful. Future generations of Hogwart's students will learn of what you did. Your place in magical history is assured. However, you will have no such knowledge.

"For your sake, I would like to read to you an extraction of Professor Dumbledore's official report". The judge picked up a parchment, adjusted his reading glasses:

"I find Jadin Weston to be a boy of uncommon intelligence. However, it is not this which concerns me. He is also highly curious, and open to new ideas and experiences. These qualities make him most dangerous. The ease with which he has adapted to Hogwart's most disturbing. I believe that Obliviation will be required before the situation deteriorates beyond our abilities to control them. A more serious threat to the Secrecy Law has never before come to my attention".

"He didn't say that? Can I see it for myself?"

"We have nothing to hide here", the judge motioned to the bailiff, and handed him the document. Jadin saw that it was, indeed, written in Dumbledore's distinctive style.

"He never said anything like that".

"I don't suppose he would. I also have a communique from the Digimon Sovereign". The judge picked up another parchment from the stack before him:

_Stipulation 1) It has come to the attention of the Sovereign that there is more to the Material World than we first realized. There exists amoung the community of mankind a subculture styling itself the 'Wizarding World'. The technology adverse nature of the Wizarding Community has prevented us from knowing of its existence._

_Stipulation 2) It is the desire, and a matter of policy, that this Wizarding Community does not want its existence known to the population at large._

_Stipulation 3) Digimon have demonstrated by affirmative action the ability to interact with said community._

_Stipulation 4) It is not the responsibility of the Digital World to break the secrecy of said community._

_Resolved: Transit across the Frontier is suspended indefinitely, pending further investigation to resolve the inherent conflict between the Wizarding Community and the Digital World._

_Resolved: All digimon now residing in the Material World are subject to immediate recall._

_Signed: Qinglongmon, Ebonwumon, and Baihumon,_

Jadin felt as though his insides turned to lead. Deceived. Used. Betrayed. Dumbledore had pretended to be a friend, but was just stringing him along. All that talk of bringing the Wizarding World up to date was pure bullshit, and Dumbledore knew it all along. Jadin cursed himself for ignoring that little voice which said that these people were interested in nothing more than Impmon's fighting abilities.

And pissed. These assholes cost him his partner, cost Mentors all over the world _their_ partners. If Potter had listened to Hermione in the first place _none_ of this would be happening. He would have defeated a couple of unknown "digimon".

So what if Lord Voldemort took over the Wizarding World: as far as Jadin was concerned, they deserved him. As far as taking over the Muggle World, the digimon wouldn't let that happen. Hadn't they already proved that?

Still, there was a name missing: Zhuqiaomon. Had he argued in his favour? It seemed highly likely he did. Three to one, but that's better than four to none. Perhaps, Zhuqiaomon could persuade the others to reopen the Frontier?

"Do not think us completely without sympathy", the judge was addressing him. "We know we cost you your partners, and we very much regret that. We know what your ideas are, as they are neither new, and others have thought the same before, and undoubtedly will in the future. It was your desire to bring magic to light, to apply your Scientific Method to magic, to combine science and technology to enhance all three. Perhaps to use technology to bring magic to everyone.

"That has been the sum of all our fears since the lifetime of your Sir Francis Bacon. Oh, it _will_ happen. Of that, we have no doubts whatsoever. It has been seen in prophecies going back to the days of Merlin himself. However, we will do everything in our power to delay the inevitable.

"To be perfectly honest about it, we are very afraid of Muggles. Have you never wondered why there are so many of you, and so few of us? For centuries, wizarding families have had two, maybe three, children, seldom more. Muggles, on the other hand, had many children. Even though they had no doubts whatsoever that some, perhaps most, perhaps _all_ of their children would never see adulthood. Still, muggles continued to fall in love, and start families.

"We have seen Muggles rise to heights, then fall to the bottom of the abyss, only to rise, bigger and better than ever before. We were the first masters of the skies centuries before your Wright Brothers took off from Kitty Hawk. Now, the only footprints on the Moon belong to muggles. Even our Ministers would rather fly British Airways these days.

"You never give up. You scare the living _hell_ out of us".

"I don't see how that's a bad thing? Share what you know. Maybe Lord Voldemort was right about one thing: maybe there can be a better world".

"Jadin, you are an idealist. Dumbledore also mentioned that. You see the world through a filter of boundless optimism. You think the best of everyone. We can't afford your optimism. If you had your way, you would only destroy yourselves. That will not be our responsibility".

_Six Months Later_

It was another Saturday morning. Jadin lay on his bed, digivice in hand. The LCD screen flashed a message to which he'd grown wearily accustomed to seeing: "Connection Denied".

"Impmon, aren't you _ever_ coming back?", he asked his ceiling.

He switched screens. There was a single message: "Do you remember entering me?" Every Saturday morning his digivice alerted, asking that same question. He'd entered "NO". He scrolled past a long line of "NO's". There were "YES's". When was that? Last summer, about mid-July. Why had he entered such a message? Why had he put it on auto-alert? What was he doing at that time? He was about half way through summer school - special classes to bring him up to speed. English high school was a good deal more demanding than American high school, and he had make-up work to do. He remembered he'd done quite well. He entered the next term well prepared. No one could complain about his grades.

There was that strange Goth he met. Dressed all in black, with hair so blonde it was nearly white. Strange name: Draco Malfoy. Malfoy sounded French, but he was not. Who would name their kid something like Draco, though? He lived with his mother in a cottage just outside London. Very evasive about a father.

He looked to when the "NO's" began to appear. That was last spring. It was strange: they'd been attacked by a newly materializing digimon, and Impmon was supposedly killed. He remembered cradling the broken body. There was blood everywhere... except that that never happened to digimon. Impmon would have disappeared in a cloud of unorganized data. It made no sense, and couldn't have happened the way he remembered. Impmon _had _to be in the Digital World, but how did he get there?

Connection _Denied_: never anything else. He was getting through, alright. Who was denying his connection? The Violet Zone? The Digimon Sovereign? That Impmon may have made the connection on his end private was unthinkable. Surely, he would want to see and talk with his partner, even if only by audio-visual.

So many questions, so few answers.


End file.
